


The Heroes Take On Hades

by Dreaten



Series: Greeks and Dwarves [3]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Fluff, Ghosts, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreaten/pseuds/Dreaten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first movie is out, and things are settling down a bit for the Gods and Heroes. But Richard and Lee decide they need a small vacation from their sudden family, and that's when it goes downhill. Is Richard's faith in Dean and Aidan warranted... or will little Hades manage to take over?</p><p>This takes place after The Gods Make Movies and The Gods are Thankful, and though it can be read alone, it makes much more sense if you've read the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may sound terrible, but please remember that fanfic authors are fueled by their imaginations, coffee, and comments. I love feedback, both constructive criticism and compliments, and I encourage all readers to give it. Didn't like the story? Let me know - was it the narrative style or language usage? Inconsistent characters? Too much description or not enough? Badly paced?
> 
> I LOVE feedback!
> 
> If you enjoyed the story, was it content that you liked best? Or characterization?
> 
> I want to encourage all feedback! Thank you!

Aidan was certain he hadn’t been gone that long. He’d only gone to the grocery store for tea. TEA! Yes, he’d done some extra shopping , but microwavable shepherd’s pie didn’t take that long to find. Then again, after he’d realized it was snowing hard and that he and Dean were likely to have a night in, he’d spent some time looking for candles and wine. And yes, the foot and a half of snow outside had made it harder to navigate the streets, slowing him down, but he hadn’t been gone for more than an hour!

Calmly and carefully, ignoring the aeroplane noises his Dean was making while sitting at the dining table, Aidan set the grocery bags on the counter, minding the jars that had mysteriously appeared while he was gone. He turned back around, staring at his oblivious boyfriend. No, Aidan was certain he wasn’t hallucinating.

Dean made another whooshing noise. “Coming in for a landing! Prepare the hangar bay!”

Little Abigail Pace-Armitage dutifully opened her mouth for the spoonful of baby food, waving her arms excitedly. Dean gave her a rewarding smile and dipped the tiny spoon back into the jar of food, getting ready for another ‘aeroplane landing’. Next to Dean at the kitchen table sat Isaac Pace-Armitage, also known as Hades, dutifully colouring some superhero in his colouring book.

Aidan buried his face in his hands. “Deano, love of my life… what the He… heck is going on?”

“Rich and Lee arrived just after you left. Went back out to get a few items, they’re worried about the snow forecast. Ireland’s getting hit worse than England, and they wanted to be sure that we had enough supplies.” Dean explained as he fed Abigail her dinner. It was… green. Aidan pitied the baby.

“Daddy Richard says I need snow boots!” Isaac piped up. “The snow is slidy and it makes me fall down, so he is gonna get me boots. I got a scarf and gloves and a coat and a hat for Christmas, but no boots.”

Aidan felt like he’d missed a very large part of a very important conversation. “Why are they buying supplies? How long are they staying?”

“A bit,” Dean tried to look nonchalant. Aidan knew that look. It was the same look the Kiwi had given him every day for a week before his birthday when the Irishman had asked if they were making plans. Dean was up to something. Aidan settled down in a seat at the table after putting his shopping away, being mindful of Isaac’s crayons, and watched as Dean finished feeding Abigail.

His plans for the evening were obviously toast. The wine and candles would have to wait.

The front door opened just as Dean was washing out the jar of baby food and the spoon. In came the God of Fire, Forge, and Tribe, followed closely by his consort. Richard and Lee.

“Do they not know how to drive in Ireland?” Richard grumbled, fighting with the grocery bags. “Bloody crazy drivers don’t even know how to signal properly.”

Lee was trying not to laugh. “You say the same thing about American drivers.” He pointed out.

“They don’t know how to drive, either! And then the roads don’t make sense, and it’s freezing here…” Richard grumbled, dragging the groceries through to the kitchen. “Good afternoon, Aidan.”

Lee followed, carrying as many bags as he could. Richard had beaten him, carrying the heaviest, but Lee was trying to keep up. The more bags they carried, the less they had to go back outside for the rest of the groceries. That and… well… Lee had his pride.

“You know, I may not have the best manners, but even I know you’re supposed to call ahead when you’re visiting someone,” Aidan grumbled, getting up from his seat at the table and helping the other actors put the foodstuffs away. Lee always put the things in the wrong places whenever he visited. He and Dean were still at war over whether the salad dressing went in the cupboard or the refrigerator.

“We did call. Two days ago.” Richard didn’t look up from the bags he was digging through. “Before this storm hit. We talked to Dean. If I’d known about this, I would have cancelled. Peanut butter… where does the peanut butter go?” Batman, who had been sleeping under the table, somehow instantly appeared in front of Richard, wagging his tail and licking his lips. “No, Batman, I don’t think it belongs in your tummy.” Richard laughed, petting the dog. Batman made a pathetic whining noise and pawed the floor excitedly. This man had his favourite treat and wasn’t sharing!

Aidan took pity on the creature and gave the dog some of the sticky sweet from the already open jar in the pantry. “Dean must’ve forgot.” He didn’t sound too worried.

“Something like that…” Dean double checked that Abigail wasn’t going to move in her seat before helping put away the groceries Lee and Richard had brought. Beans, soups, more baby food, bread, various foodstuff that Dean and Aidan preferred more than Lee or Richard, and… “Two boxes of chocolate Poptarts?”

Richard snagged one box back. “Those are mine for the flight out. Isaac gets the other.” He glanced down at the young God of the Underworld, who had found his new snow boots and was trying them on.

“I thought I put those snacks back,” Lee raised an eyebrow.

“It’s only one box for a whole week. It won’t hurt him.” Richard protested.

“Where are you headed?” Aidan asked, taking the leftover paper bags and tossing them into the recycle bin.

“Ski holiday. The Goddess Chione owns a resort, she invited us for a week.” Richard explained as he put some more things in the cupboard, then discovered Aidan's latest purchase on the shelf. “Oh, wine. This is a good brand.”

Aidan snatched the bottle back and glared. “I have plans for that, you know.” The Irishman set the wine in the fridge and turned back to Richard, roguish grin on his features. “I hope they have a good daycare, that kid would drive anyone insane.” He pointed at Isaac. The child looked up at him and stuck his tongue out.

“He’s…uh… not going…” Dean said. “Neither is Abby.”

“Oh, they’re staying with Ian?”

“No…”

“Jimmy?”

“Not… quite…”

“Dean, where are Isaac and Abby staying?” Aidan crossed his arms and glared. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as he thought he was.

“Well, I sort of told Richard that we wouldn’t mind watching them. We aren’t filming right now, and Rich and Lee need some alone time.” Dean bit his lip.

“They’re… staying here… for a week?” Aidan looked positively faint. “Dean, they can’t stay here, we’ll wind up forgetting to feed them, or something!”

“They’re not puppies, they’ll let us know if they’re hungry.” Dean protested.

“I think I’m sensing some miscommunication, here. Abby, why don’t we get Daddy Richard to light us a nice fire in the fireplace to warm everyone up? Isaac, come on, let Uncle Dean and Uncle Aidan talk.” Lee picked up Abigail, making cooing noises at her. She honestly didn’t care where she was going as long as she was being spoiled by her fathers. Isaac followed obediently, giving both the Kiwi and the Irishman a look that told them he knew Dean was in trouble. Richard was the last out, silently wishing Dean luck.

As soon as the family was gone, Aidan turned on Dean. “You promised we’d watch them for a whole week? Without discussing it with me?”

Dean nodded, shifting from foot to foot. “I thought you’d say ‘no’ if I just asked. They’re so precious, you can’t say ‘no’ with them already here… Listen, Jimmy’s nearby, we can always ask him for help if we can’t handle them. Come on, it’ll be good practise for the future… possibly? Adorable little children?” He gave Aidan his own rendition of the 'puppy' face.

“You’re using their cuteness to sell this idea?” Aidan scowled. “You are SO sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Does that mean they can stay?” Dean looked hopeful.

“Let’s just say you were right about their cuteness selling it.”

 

*************************

 

Richard and Lee spent the night in the guest bedroom, after insisting that Aidan change the sheets out – they won the argument of ‘if you can’t remember the last time you changed them, then you should change them!’ – Isaac camped in the living room, using some spare blankets to make a fort, and Abigail slept in a small crib Richard and Lee kept at the home for when they visited.

Despite his excitement about having some alone time with his husband, it was apparent the next morning that one newly minted parent wasn’t quite ready to leave his children behind for long.

Lee cuddled his daughter protectively, bouncing her slightly. “If Abby cries for no reason, make sure she isn’t too warm or cold. If you’re going to give her formula, be sure to heat it up. Test it on your wrist to make sure it isn’t too hot, though. She can eat baby food, but try to get a good mix of both, she still needs the vitamins from the formula. Don’t let her sleep without her socks or her toes will get cold. Let’s see… bedtime for Isaac is 9pm, and he’s not allowed to watch cartoons in the mornings. You’ve got the lesson plans from his teacher, but he’ll try to skip out on the math. Be sure he wears his scarf when he goes outside, and he’s not allowed to go sledding, it’s too dangerous.” The American was frantically trying to see if he’d forgotten anything.

Standing behind his husband, the Englishman rolled his eyes. If his American went on like this any longer, they’d miss their flight. As Lee fretted, Richard took out a note pad and scribbled on it, then tapped Lee on the shoulder. “Love, here, I’ve got directions written down for the boys. They’re capable, they can take care of the kids. They’ll be fine.”

“Says the man who babysat them for months on end,” Lee countered. “There’s a reason why Graham didn’t give Aidan a puppy.”

“No, but he gave Dean one, and Batman is still very much alive. If they need help, Jimmy’s not too far away. Not to mention that I watched them because they were a target, not because they couldn’t take care of themselves. Well... mostly. Listen, Fran enchanted the entire house when she was here in November, there’s not a chance something can hurt them in here. I doubt they could burn the place down if they tried.” Richard explained calmly. Lee glanced at the folded piece of paper, bit his lip nervously, then nodded.

Grateful for the lecture to be over, Aidan took the paper from the God. Dean finally coaxed Lee into handing the baby girl over to him, but not before she got goodbye kisses from both of her fathers.

Isaac was next. “You be good for Dean and Aidan, promise me?” Lee asked, giving the young God a tight hug.

“I’ll be good. Mostly.” Isaac promised. Richard bent down and hugged the child, then dropped a kiss on his forehead. “Ew… daddy!” The child protested, wrinkling his nose and wiping the kiss away. “I’m not a baby!”

“Of course you’re not. You protect your sister for me, okay? Can you be a big hero and do that?” Richard asked.

Isaac nodded. “I will. It’s only a week, right? You won’t leave me here forever?” He wringed his fingers slightly, looking worried.

“Of course we’ll come back. And we’ll bring you a present if you behave for Dean and Aidan.” Richard promised. “And we’ll call you every night just before bedtime. You packed your copy of Treasure Island, right? We’ll read that together when I call.” That seemed to satisfy the child enough that he gave Richard one last hug and said goodbye. The actors somewhat reluctantly headed to their taxi, dragging their luggage behind them. The children (including Aidan and Dean) watched the car drive away from the porch, Isaac waving until the car was long gone.

As soon as the God and Lee were out of sight, Aidan and Dean opened up the instructions Richard had written. ‘Feed them, love them, set reasonable boundaries for Isaac. He likes cheese and apples for snacks. He also likes hot chocolate and chocolate Poptarts. Make him do his schoolwork, but make sure he has time for play, too. Abby will fall asleep faster if you sing to her. Don’t let her stick small things in her mouth. If you drive anywhere, use her car seat. Should you smell something bad, check her diaper. If you need help, call Graham or Jimmy. Don’t call Simon. Or Martin. Stay out of trouble, and pretend you're responsible adults.’

Now THAT, they could do. Probably.

 

***********************

 

“I hate maths,” Isaac complained. “Can’t we go outside and play in the snow?”

Aidan scowled at the workbook Isaac was glaring at. Long division. He remembered that. He also remembered thinking the exact same thing. What was it his mother had said when he’d complained? “Maths won’t kill you.”

“Says you,” the child countered. “I’m gonna remember how to do maths when I get all my memories back, why do I have to learn it again? It’s not like I didn’t learn it before.”

Crap. “Uhm… well… What does Richard say about it?”

“He says that I’ll remember faster if I practise,” Isaac sulked. “And it will be easy once I remember. I want to remember soon, because then schoolwork will be easy.”

Yeah, schoolwork would have been easier if you had thousands of years of memories to back it up. From what Aidan understood, after talking to all the Gods soon after he’d become immortal, memories of previous lives weren’t fully complete until early teens in the best-case scenario, but it was usually age twenty to twenty five before all the memories returned. Isaac could list every mineral in existence and tell stories about what he’d done in the last few lives and had general information about his powers and the other Gods, but he still couldn’t figure out long division.

For once, Aidan could do something a God couldn’t.

“If practise will make you remember faster, than that’s what you need to do.” Aidan said simply. “Think about it, if you remember faster, then you’ll do better than your schoolmates.”

“I’m already better. They make fun of me.” Isaac sulked. “They said I’m weird.”

“You are weird. You’re a freaking Greek God! Do you even know how cool that is?” Aidan asked.

Isaac wrinkled his nose. “It doesn’t get me out of maths.”

Aidan double-checked to make sure that Dean was still in the living room with Batman and Abigail. Satisfied that his slightly more responsible half wouldn’t hear, he leaned over the table and told Isaac quietly: “You finish ALL your maths work today and I will buy a sled AND ice skates. Deal?”

“Daddy Lee said no sledding,” Isaac looked confused.

“That’s why we don’t tell him,” Aidan whispered. “And I’ll let you stay up tonight to watch a monster movie with me and Dean.”

“Godzilla?” Isaac looked interested.

“Sure,” Aidan nodded. Anything to get this child to finish his schoolwork.

Isaac looked down at the paper in front of him and began to do long division as fast as his little brain could manage it.

 

***************

 

“We’re… not telling Lee about this, are we?” Dean looked down the hill nervously. He was bundled up as much as possible – heavy coat, winter boots, hat, gloves, the works. Ireland’s snow was not something he was quite accustomed to, yet, and he was trying to avoid the cold as much as possible.

“Absolutely not,” Aidan agreed. He was holding onto Abigail, the infant bundled up in the warmest things they could buy – a miniature snow suit, a warm blanket, warm mittens and boots, and a knitted cap. All in pink, because Dean had decided that pink would look adorable on her. Batman sat at Aidan’s heels, trying to figure out what was going on. “Are you two ready to race?”

“Yeah! Come on, Koala-man! I will defeat you!” Isaac cheered from his sled.

“Koala-man?” Dean glanced at the child from his own sled.

“Yeah, you’ve got a fuzzy beard; it makes you look like a koala. So you’re Koala-man. And Hades will always beat Koala-man!” The child looked positively delighted.

Dean, not so much. “I really hope that doesn’t stick. A few centuries of ‘Koala-man’ and I think I’ll go insane.” He muttered. “And I’m shaving when we get home, cold be damned.”

“All, right!” Aidan cheered. “Abby, help me with this!” He lifted the infant’s arm up. “Ready, steady, GO!” He brought her arm down.

Dean and Isaac kicked off down the hill, followed quickly by a barking and excited Batman. It wasn’t much a sled run. Dean and Isaac weren’t as used to the weather as Aidan was; and even though Dean was older physically, Isaac had a bit of an upper hand – he’d gone sledding in previous lifetimes.

Still, they both cheered as they sped through the snow, and both of them came to a crash long before they’d reached the bottom. The dog caught up with them, licking their faces excitedly as if you say ‘I found you!’ Covered in white cold stuff, they dragged the sleds up the hill, back up to Aidan and Abigail. Dean was grinning like a child who’d discovered his new favourite thing. Red nose, covered in snow, and breathing heavy, the Kiwi looked his boyfriend in the eye and said “How come you never said how much fun that was?”

An hour later and Isaac, Batman, Aidan, and Dean were all covered in snow. Isaac was now trying to build a snowman with the help of the two adults, and Abigail was sitting on a sled close by, with Batman watching her as if she was his puppy. She didn’t seem cold or uncomfortable in the slightest, so they must’ve done something right.

“It needs real coal,” Isaac said, tilting his head sideways at their creation. “For the eyes and the nose and the mouth, all coal.”

“Where are we supposed to get that?” Aidan glanced down at the child. “We’d have to go to the supermarket, or something."

“You’re thinking like a mortal,” Isaac scowled. “Give me… two minutes.” The child burrowed his little gloved hands into the snow, then when he reached the ground, he pulled the gloves off and continued into the dirt. A mere few seconds in, Isaac was lifting black stone-like chunks up to his babysitters. “See, coal! Not that hard.”

“That is cheating,” Aidan laughed, taking the coal so Isaac could put his gloves back on. “Come on, we’ll decorate our snowman. What should we call him?”

“Uhm… Charlie.” The child decided. “His name is Charlie.”

“Okay, Charlie.” The Irishman agreed. He and Dean started to help the child give Charlie a face.

Of course, that was when Abigail let out a shriek and followed it up by a long wail.

The snowman was quickly abandoned as both actors rushed towards the infant. She was no longer sitting in the middle of Isaac’s sled, but had managed to move herself to the edge. Her little mittens were covered in white, and her cheeks were now red as she wailed. Batman was trying to fix it, licking the infant’s face, but she wasn’t appreciating his help. “What’s wrong? Is she hurt?” Aidan glanced from the baby to Dean, trying to figure out what he should do.

Dean, slightly less panicked, picked up Abigail and rocked her gently, trying to work out what set off the cries. It didn’t take long, and when he did work it out, he started laughing.

“It’s not funny! If she’s hurt, we need to go to the hospital! I’ll get her carseat in, and you grab the keys and-“

“It’s all right,” Dean laughed. “She’s not hurt. Take a look, perfectly fine. No bumps, no bruises. Just a bit of doggie kisses. I think she did try to see what snow tasted like, though. A little too cold for her liking.” He showed Aidan the snow-covered mitten, still rocking her. “That snow is bad-scary stuff, isn’t it? Very cold. We don’t like it, do we?” Dean kissed the baby on her nose. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

“One scare is more than enough,” Aidan agreed. “Come on, Isaac. Let’s head back inside.”

Isaac whined a bit, wanting to play outside some more, but Dean was firm. He herded his pseudo-family inside, where he placated the boy with a cup of hot chocolate. Batman got some warm water and a rawhide. Aidan was happy with a mug of chocolate for himself, and Dean made a bottle of warm milk for Abigail before settling down with a cup of tea. The little one apparently decided she liked the milk very much, thank you, and actually fell asleep while drinking it.  
Well, she’d had a long day.

They all had.

Aidan had promised Isaac a Godzilla film, so he turned the movie on and snuggled up on the couch, under a blanket, with Dean after they’d put Abigail to bed. It wasn’t five minutes into the movie that Isaac had wormed his way between them, cuddled under the blanket. Twenty minutes into the movie, Dean realized that Aidan had dozed off, leaning on Dean’s shoulder with Isaac squeezed between them. Not that the child minded. He was asleep, too.

Sometimes, it was easier to join them than beat them, so Dean turned the television off and settled down for a nap.

 

***********************

 

When Dean awoke, two hours later, he was missing both his cuddly Irishman and the devious little God. The blanket had been carefully tucked around him, and a pillow had been put under his head, but both brunettes were nowhere to be seen.

They weren’t in Dean’s studio, where he’d left his latest painting to dry, nor were they in the garage, where their cars and motorbikes (James had finally caved and built them for the lads) were silently awaiting use. Not in the bedrooms, though Abigail was also missing from her crib.

He finally found them in the kitchen, Abigail in her seat and her entire mouth covered in brown. Isaac was merrily sitting at the table, scribbling onto what looked to be a history worksheet, a small, plastic cup of brown off to the side and munching on what suspiciously looked like a chocolate Poptart. Aidan was reading a script his agent had sent him, blissfully unaware that his lover had found him.

“You fed them chocolate pudding for dinner?” Dean asked, leaning on the doorframe.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Aidan got up and gave Dean and quick kiss on the lips, then wrapped his arms around his Kiwi. “What else was I supposed to do? Did you see those jars of baby food Richard left us? Some of them are green. GREEN, Dean! I can’t feed her something green! Look at that face, is that a face that should be eating funny coloured food?”

“It was mashed peas,” Dean protested, giving Aidan small kisses back. “You like peas. Well, you like them better than cabbage.”

“It’s still green. I’m not torturing her like that.” Aidan insisted.

“We’re not telling Lee about this, are we?”

“Not a chance,” Aidan confirmed, ducking his head slightly for a nice, long kiss.

“Ew! Abby, close your eyes, they’re KISSING.”

Dean and Aidan separated, and Aidan gave his boyfriend a wink. “Six more days of this… and remember, it was YOUR idea.”

 

*******************

 

“There’s a monster under my bed.”

Dean rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock. 2 in the morning. What was Isaac doing awake at 2 in the morning? “A monster?”

The child nodded vigorously. “He came because I had a nightmare again. I think he wants to eat me.”

“Isaac, you know perfectly well there are no such things as monsters.” Dean really wanted to put his pillow over his head and go back to sleep. That sounded like a good plan.

“Minotaurs, hydras, cyclopses…”

“Okay, okay, there are such things as monsters. But they aren’t under your bed. We checked before you got here. No monsters.” Dean sighed.

“I told you, he just got there. I had a nightmare, and the monster came.”

Dean sat up in bed and stared at the child. His eyes were wide and he was shifting nervously from foot to foot. He looked genuinely scared. “Isaac, what kind of nightmare did you have?”

“A bad one. With lots of blood and bad ghosts and death”

That was enough to scare a grown-up, let alone a child. That could trigger a ‘monster’ imagining. “Do you want me to check under your bed for you?”

Isaac nodded again. “Daddy Richard can make the monsters go away when they come, he has special monster spray. I don’t remember how to make them go away, yet. Will you make it go away?”

“All right, let’s go check under the bed.” Dean pulled the blankets back (Aidan grunted, but didn’t move), found his slippers, and decided he didn’t need his dressing-gown. He followed Isaac back into the spare bedroom, where he turned on the lights and checked under the bed. “See, monster is gone.”

“No, it’s not. It’s right there.” Isaac pointed under the bed.

“There’s nothing there,” Dean insisted. “The monster ran away.”

Isaac made a face and grabbed Dean’s hand. “Here, I’ll show you.” He closed his eyes, and suddenly…

Suddenly Dean could see a rabbit-badger creature with razor sharp claws, midnight black fur, and beady red eyes. And it was staring at them. Dean let out a yelp and grabbed the child, pulling him back out of the room and slamming the door. “There’s a monster!”

“I told you so. It comes when I have nightmares. It goes in the Underworld, so I can see it. Can you make it go away?” Isaac stared up at Dean, looking hopeful.

“I… ah… I’ll call Richard in the morning and see what he says. Come on, let’s go to my room.” He guided Isaac to where Abigail was sleeping and pulled her little wheeled crib into his room. As the Kiwi made sure the infant was still asleep, Isaac climbed into Dean and Aidan’s bed.

The Irishman stirred, blinking at the child who had suddenly appeared next to him. “Deano?”

Dean climbed into bed, putting the child between him and Aidan. “There’s a monster under his bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I promised more from "The Gods Make Movies" universe.. and here it is. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.
> 
> And as usual, thanks to W.D., my editor, who dealt with me going over four different versions of this story...


	2. Vanishing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets permission to photograph an old castle, James Nesbitt helps baby-sit, and Isaac vanishes.

“So, wait, that thing shows up EVERY time ANYONE has a nightmare?” Dean squawked into the phone as he paced the kitchen. “It would have been nice to know about that! Richard, I don’t CARE that only the Gods who belong to the Underworld can see it, it damn well scared me half to death!”

“Hey, little ears!” Aidan reminded his lover with a scowl. All they needed was for Abigail to learn a swear word before she learned ‘Dada’. He wasn’t sure when kids learned to talk, but Abby had been babbling random things… and he wasn’t going to risk Richard and Lee killing him for teaching their daughter naughty words. Plus, he swore more often than the Kiwi - they’d never believe that she’d learned it from Dean. Dean mouthed ‘sorry’ at him and lowered his voice a bit.

“Can I have marmite on my toast?” Isaac asked.

Aidan checked the fridge. “Ugh, I think we’re out. We’ll have to stop by the shops. Is jam okay?”

“It’s not as good as marmite,” the dark-haired child sulked.

“It won’t kill you. At least it’s not mashed peas and carrots for breakfast.” Aidan pointed at the empty jar of baby food on the table. At least this time, he’d managed to get most of it IN her mouth, instead of all around it. Kids were hard to feed.

“Yuck,” Isaac agreed. Aidan handed him the jam and the child carefully spread the stuff over his toast… then his eggs. When he saw Aidan giving him a strange look, he pouted and declared “Daddy Lee taught me this. It’s good.”

“Lee is American and doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Aidan laughed. “He can’t even make a decent pudding.”

“But he makes really good ‘burgers,” Isaac smiled before shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Richard, how come nobody told us that there were invisible things wandering around? How many more invisible things are floating around, huh? Oh, well, I’m glad to know that only the Underworld stuff is invisible, that makes me feel so much better! Yes, that was sarcasm! What do you mean ‘blame Isaac for that’?” Dean pulled the phone away from his mouth for a moment. “You can turn invisible?” He asked the child.

“Daddy Richard says I’m not allowed. He can find me, even if I’m invisible, and he told me I’m grounded if I do it.” Isaac explained.

“That is an awful lot of power for a kid to be running around with…” Dean muttered. He put the phone back so he could talk to the Englishman on the line. “So, how do we get rid of it?”

“And I’m not even nine,” Isaac said in a singsong voice.

“Eat your breakfast,” Aidan laughed.

“Monster spray? Uh-huh, that’s all it is? How does that do anything?... oh… yeah, that makes sense.” Dean acknowledged. “Yeah, I’ll do that before he goes to bed tonight. Thanks. Yeah, here you go.” he handed the phone to the child. “Richard wants to talk to you.”

“Daddy!” Isaac squealed into the phone. He proceeded to tell Richard about their adventure the day before, including their sledding and the snowman.

Aidan picked up the dishes and put them in the sink to wash later. “So, what’s in monster spray?” He asked quietly.

Just as quietly, Dean answered “Tap water. Apparently, since Isaac thinks it works, it does. He’s been making the monsters go away subconsciously. Y’know the same way Richard used to set fires and how Ian throws stormy tantrums.”

“That’s how monster spray works for every other kid on the planet,” Aidan snickered.

“He might be a God, but he’s still in primary school.” Dean grinned back.

 

*****************************************

 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Aidan heard Dean shout from his studio.

“You’d better not be having fun without me!” Aidan shouted down the hall. It was bad enough that he was standing in the guest bedroom, trying to work out what he was supposed to do with this diaper. Why hadn’t he been paying attention when Dean had showed him earlier?

Dean bounded through the hall, stopping the doorway of ‘Abby’s room’. Aidan was certain he’d never seen Dean grin that wide. “They said ‘yes’!” The Kiwi cheered.

“Who?” Aidan didn’t look up from his task. He really didn’t want to slip in his concentration now.

“The owners of that castle! They’ve agreed to allow me to photograph it! The one down the road!” Dean was practically bouncing. Next to him, Batman was wagging his tail furiously – his owner was happy about SOMETHING, so he was going to be, too!

Aidan wrinkled his nose, and not just because of what he was doing. “That old falling apart place? Why would you want to go there?”

“Can you imagine the shots I’d get? Especially with the snow! It’ll be gorgeous!” Dean declared. “They’re letting me do it today, and only today. Something about renovations starting. I'm going to go pack up!” He scurried off, probably to locate his camera bag, with Batman bouncing at his heels.

“Deano, what are we going to do with the kids?” Aidan called out, trying to finish up with this blasted diaper.

Dean poked his head back into the room. “Kids?” He asked. Aidan gave him a ‘look’ and motioned to the baby girl. “Uhm… oh. Think they’ll be all right at the castle? I don’t think it’ll be that dangerous.”

“We’re going to a castle? A real one?” Isaac wandered into the room, eyes wide and looking very curious. “Can I go? Please say I can go!” He managed to put on a ‘puppy’ look.

Dean had vanished again, leaving Aidan to defend himself against his own best weapon. Now he knew why Dean always caved. “Fine,” Aidan sighed. “But you have to mind us, stay away from anything dangerous, and if you get too cold, we’re leaving.” That was a good set of rules, right?

Isaac seemed to think it over for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Deal.“

While Dean spent the next twenty minutes bounding around the house in full photographer-mode (hyperactive and scatterbrained), Aidan figured that it was up to him to get the children ready. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. How the hell did Dean think of all this stuff most of the time? Was there a handbook that Aidan didn’t know about?

By the time Dean had almost everything he wanted for the shoot; Aidan had packed everything he thought the children would possibly need – two duffel bags, one for each child. And both barely zipped up. Isaac was bundled up, head to toe (thankfully without needing much prodding), and Aidan had discovered that putting Abigail into her snowsuit was far more difficult than Dean had made it look yesterday. He still wasn’t sure that keeping her in the snow for hours and hours was such a good idea.

“Is it just outside, or are we going in, too?” Aidan asked as Dean rushed by.

“I want to get lots of shots of the outside, but yeah, the owners said we can go inside as long as we don’t damage anything. The heat’s not working, but we can bring camping stuff, I asked. Already got it piled up by the door. Electric fire is okay, but not the real thing, they’re not sure about the flue. Should I go digital outside? Probably not, digital might mess up with the snow. Have you seen my 35mm film? I put it away…”

“Your studio, refrigerator, bottom drawer.” Aidan sighed. Dean dashed off to locate his precious film. “I don’t think it’s going to be a good idea to bring Abby, not with the heat out!” Dean obviously didn’t hear him.

Aidan was certain the baby girl shouldn’t go with, even though he’d packed everything for her and bundled her up. Not only was it going to be very cold and probably damp, but he didn’t know how to take care of a little girl! Kids were Dean’s thing. Aidan’s experience with children was mostly ‘play with them until they passed out and make sure they were still breathing while asleep’. He’d barely survived the diaper, and Dean had been pretty annoyed about giving her pudding. Whenever she’d cried, Dean had fixed it, soothing the baby and giving her what she needed as if she was telepathically telling him. Aidan just stood there and felt like crying, himself. The closest he’d gotten to watching a child Abby’s age by himself was…

Mary Nesbitt. He’d taken Mary and Peggy on a short holiday during their parents’ divorce and while Dean had been filming The Almighty Johnsons. The Irishman snatched up his mobile, found the autodial labeled ‘Leprechaun’ (Dean had thought he was funny when programming that), and called the number. “Hi, Jimmy? You know how you said you owed me for taking the girls to EuroDisney? Yeah, you’re about to pay me back.”

 

***********************

 

James was delighted to watch Abigail, and literally had an entire play area set up for her – everything from a small quilt on the floor to dozens of toys and plush animals - by the time Aidan and Dean had dropped her off half an hour later. It looked like Mary’s old toys were going to be of use, after all.

“Hello, little princess! What a beautiful little girl you are!” James took the baby from their arms and bounced her slightly. She fussed, reaching for Dean, but James gave her an indulgent smile and calmed her down. “I can’t believe Richard and Lee let these two morons take care of you! As a granddaughter of Zeus, you should be dressed in silks and have diamonds sparkling in your hair, with servants catering to your every whim!” He glanced at Aidan. “You have a bag for her, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Aidan handed it over. As James rummaged through it and found bottles, diapers, and clothes, Aidan shifted nervously. “Did I miss something?”

“Oh, I’m just checking for the kitchen sink.” James teased. “I think you overpacked. I really doubt she’s going to go through forty diapers and three sets of clothes in a few hours. And I can make anything she’s missing… Still, better to have too much than too little. So, how long will you be gone?”

“Not long,” Dean shrugged. “I’m gonna get a few photos of the castle. Isaac will be inside most of the time.”

‘Not long’ when Dean was photographing usually meant the exact opposite. Dean had a habit of losing track of time. Both Irishmen exchanged glances.

“I’ll keep an eye on Isaac. How much trouble can he get into while in a run down old castle?” Aidan shrugged. “We’ve got camping gear in case it’s cold, so don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about you than Isaac. You get into more mischief than he does.” James snickered. “I take we’re not telling Lee that you’re taking the boy to a castle.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t!” Isaac grinned up at James. James laughed. “Well, good. What Lee doesn’t know won’t hurt the rest of us. You lads stay safe in that castle. You have any problems or danger, give me a ring.”

“We will,” Dean promised. “And Batman’s in the car, he’ll protect us.”

“Right… “ James raised an eyebrow. “Do you have enough blankets? Chem-lights? Here, I’ll make some for you.” James made a show of popping the supplies into existence. Then, he found several of old coins, handing them over ‘just in case there was something that needed them’. Whatever that meant.

James told Abigail to ‘wave bye-bye’, which to the boys’ surprise, she did. A few hugs and the lads were off to the castle, all four of them – Immortals, God, and canine.

As soon as they were gone, James went inside and set Abigail down on her play-blanket, giving her a toy rabbit to chew on, and made himself comfortable in his favourite chair as picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, Richard?”

 

***********************************

 

While Dean was listening intently to the castle’s groundskeeper, an old man who repeated himself every fifth or sixth sentence, Aidan and Isaac gaped at the interior of the castle. Yes, it was old and in need of renovation, but… it was a freaking castle! The book Ian had loaned him and the discussions they’d had about castles did not do the place justice. Stone walls, tapestries, and Aidan was certain there were a few secret passages.

Aidan wondered if Richard’s Camelot had been like this. Scratch that, Camelot had probably been a thousand times more majestic.

Isaac took the older brunette’s hand into his gloved one. “It looks haunted! Crikey!” He sounded… positively delighted.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Aidan shook his head. “It’s just a figment of our imaginations.”

The child narrowed his eyes at his babysitter. “Who’s the expert, here?” Aidan rolled his eyes. “I thought so. This is gonna be so much fun!” Isaac bounced on his heels.

“Now, remember, the west wing is off-limits. There is tape to keep people out. The roof needs repair, there. Do not trample anything in the gardens, do not use the electric fire near the furniture, just in case. And remember, the only reasons the lord and lady are allowing you to do this is because you are a celebrity, so be a gracious guest.” The groundskeeper gave the quartet a glare. Batman whined.

“I understand,” Dean tried to look calm and collected. Like an adult. He was an actor; he could make this grouchy old man think he was a responsible adult. Probably. In reality, he really wanted to snatch the keys away and start setting up his equipment.

After what seemed like forever, they were finally left alone at the old fortress. Aidan and Isaac began to set up inside, letting their electric fire heat the room and setting up blankets and camp chairs, while Dean brought his lighting equipment in. Isaac wasn’t keen on being told he couldn’t play outside, but Aidan was quick to point out that there were no sleds, and that once Dean was done, they could play outside and make footprints to their hearts’ content.

By the time he got to shooting, Dean couldn’t have been happier. He was literally bounding around the outside of the old stone castle, soaking his clothes in snow as he climbed on part of a wall for this shot, or crawled on the ground for another. Aidan watched his lover from a window.

“Is he always like that when he’s photographing?” Isaac asked, leaning on the windowsill.

“Oh, yes.” Aidan nodded. “He’ll spend hours like that. I’ll be surprised if we get out of here before nightfall. He’s still got to photograph the inside.”

“Won’t it be too dark?”

“He brought his lighting stuff. He’s wanted me to learn for ages, looks like I’m not going to have a choice.” Aidan chuckled. “Want to play Cluedo?”

“Can I explore?” Isaac looked hopeful. “Please, please, please? There’s nobody to bother here, and I’ll stay out of the west wing!”

“I should be keeping an eye on you,” Aidan frowned. Still, what could happen in an old castle? Isaac was smart enough to stay out of trouble… “I’ll give you an hour, all right? You shout if anything scares you or you get stuck, promise me?”

“I’m Hades, what could scare me?” Isaac rolled his eyes.

“I dunno, you seem to be pretty afraid of broccoli.” Aidan shrugged. “And the monster under the bed…” Isaac gave him a pleading look. “Go. I’ll see if I can work out some of Deano’s lights while he’s outside. Faster that stuff is put together, the faster we can go home.” Not that the castle was boring, but it was damp and cold. Their electric fire barely warmed the room enough for it to be tolerable without a coat, and the sooner they got home, the sooner he’d be able to cuddle under the covers with his Deano.

“Yes!” Isaac bounced over to a hall and began his exploration.

Aidan chuckled as the child darted off. “Well, Batman, it’s just you and me. “ He glanced down at the dog. “What shall we do, hm?” He patted Batman’s head and smiled. “I don’t think Deano needs those lights right away, does he? And we’ve got the camp chairs…”

An hour later, Aidan was awoken by his mobile phone happily ringing away. He sat up in the camp chair and rubbed his eyes, turning on the phone. “Hello?”

“Aidan. Good afternoon. Just calling to see how you’re doing.” Richard’s voice came over the speaker. Crap. Aidan prayed that Richard’s bloodhound power hadn’t made him aware that they weren’t at home.

“Good, good. Dean’s doing his art thing, I’ve got the kids.” Aidan yawned. It was, technically, true.

“But you’re not home. You’re in a castle.”

Double-crap.

“We’re… uhm… Dean’s photographing, so we’re inside hanging out.” Aidan tried.

“Abby’s not with you.”

“You know, next time, just tell me what you know FIRST.” Aidan sighed. “Abby’s with Jimmy, I didn’t know if I could watch both her and Isaac.”

“I know. He called. What are you up to?” Richard sounded very… amused.

“Ahm… well, it’s getting dark outside, but Deano hasn’t come in. It’s…” He glanced out the window. “Now snowing. Christ, Dean’s going to get sick if he stays out there so long! What is wrong with him? I was distracted, setting up some equipment,” Technically a lie, but if he told Richard he’d fallen asleep, the Englishman wouldn’t be too happy with him, “Batman’s asleep, and Isaac is investigating the castle.”

“By himself?”

“Uhm… well… he only went to the gallery?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself.”

“If he was in trouble, you’d know it with your freaky powers. He’s fine.” Probably.

“Don’t let him wander around alone. He may have Lee’s sense of direction, but he’s got my sense of trouble – he finds it like you find sweets.” Richard explained, sounding annoyed.

“You don’t find trouble!” Aidan laughed.

“I found the two of you, didn’t I?”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go look for him. He can’t have gotten into too much, he hasn’t been gone that long.” The Irishman sighed. “I’ll talk to you later, if there’s any problems, all right? You and Lee go enjoy your holiday. And other things.”

“Stay safe. You remember the Elven King imprisoning you in the dungeon? Yeah, he’ll do it for real if Isaac’s hurt.” Richard said before hanging up.

Aidan rolled his eyes, tossed his mobile into his bag, and glanced down at the dog. “Well, we’d better go find the kid, huh? Who knows what he can get into.” Batman wagged his tail at the Irishman.

Most of the lights were out, either the bulbs were missing or burnt out. This place had been left in a state of disarray for far too long, Aidan was surprised the furniture wasn’t damaged and there wasn’t more dust on the floors and mantle. Then again, there wasn’t ANY dust. That was odd. Everything else was in a state of neglect, but there wasn’t any dust. Anywhere. Still, he grabbed a torch began to explore, Batman happily at his heels.

First down the hallway where he had seen Isaac go. There were a few old paintings, a suit of armor (a real suit of armor! Aidan made a mental note to make Dean photograph it). Doors were on each side of the hall, all closed, all silent. Where did that kid get to?

The hallway led to a large opening, a parlour. The windows were all boarded up, but grand old sofas sat uncovered and there was even a tea service sitting out, as though it had just been used. Who left old tea services out? Really! The groundskeeper should have at least taken care of that, probably years ago when the last person lived here!

“Dean will love this place,” Aidan told Batman. “All sorts of weird things in this castle. Wonder if we’ll ever get him out of here.” Batman yipped and wagged his tail. “Yeah, you’re right. He’ll try to stay overnight if I let him. Okay,” he flashed his torch around the room, looking for a certain child with dark hair. “Let’s see if we can find any trace of our little trouble-maker, right?”

Nothing, except for a chair that had been moved to allow someone of a short stature to get something out of a curio case. What had Isaac been up to? He’d promised to behave!

The curio case held old-fashioned toys, collectibles, nowadays. A doll, a bear, a skipping rope, some marbles, and some blocks. There was a blank spot where something should have been, something that was now missing. Isaac had better not be stealing toys, those vintage things were worth a lot of money!

“Isaac? Isaac where are you? You promised to be good, that means you can’t play with the old toys, they’re not yours, and you don’t have permission.” Aidan scowled. “Come on, come out. We need to go check on Dean, make sure he hasn’t frozen to death, out there rolling in the snow.” No response. Aidan didn’t expect there to be one, this castle held more than a couple dozen rooms. The kid could be anywhere.

Something rattled by the window, and Aidan jumped, flashing his torch in that direction. Batman whined. “Sorry, boy. Just the wind, really. Quiet’s making me nervous.” He knelt down and gave the pup a hug.

When he rose, turning around at the same time (dance moves COULD be used outside the dance floor, thank you!), he bumped into something.

The torch skidded away, and Aidan fell to the floor with a startled cry that he’d never admit to making. The figure in front of him loomed in the dark, unmoving. Aidan couldn’t see any features.

“Aid, you okay?”

“Christ! Deano, you scared me half to death! How’d you know I was here?” Aidan breathed out a sigh of relief. “Give me a hand up.” He reached toward his entirely too creepy boyfriend.

Dean helped Aidan up, missing his hand the first few tries. Blasted darkness. Batman happily trotted over to his owner and proceeded to make whining noises until Dean gave him a pat. “I saw your torch from our campsite. Why were you calling Isaac?” Dean retrieved the torch while Aidan made his heart stop doing a samba, then wandered back to his Irishman, pulling him close. “Did I scare you?”

“Like hell,” Aidan frowned, tugging at Dean for a quick kiss. “Your cheeks are cold, and your nose. You’re going to freeze to death if we don’t get you changed into dry clothes.”

“You’ll have to warm me up,” Dean made that sound like a promise. “After we find Isaac.”

“Yeah, sorry. I told him he could go play… and sort of… dozed off in one of the chairs. He was supposed to check back in…”

“Oh, he checks back in like we do?” Aidan felt Dean’s lips tug up in a smile, and the blonde pressed a kiss to the brunette’s lips. “There’s not too much he can get into here, though. It’s just going to be forever finding him.”

“You’d be surprised. He’s already nicked some old toys.” Aidan sighed.

“And set out a tea service?” Dean pointed with the light. “I thought he hated tea.”

“He does. I don’t think that was him, probably left out by the owners.” Aidan shrugged.

Dean took a step back, holding onto his boyfriend’s hand as he dragged them over to investigate the ornate tea service. If Isaac had damaged the silver, they’d have to pay for it. He flashed the torch down into the cups. A small amount of brown was settled in three different cups. The pot also had brown liquid in it, much more than the cups. Dean dipped a finger in. “Still warm, that means it’s Isaac.” He licked the finger. “Hot chocolate. I’ll bet he’s gone through our stash. I was looking forward to that.”

“How the hell did he make hot chocolate?” Aidan frowned, staring at the cups. “And he knew better, he really, really did. I told him not to touch anything before we even left!”

“Well, this place has electricity, so I’d say he used the stove.” Dean frowned. “Let’s find him. Think Lee would mind if we gave him a quick pop on the rear for this?”

“No idea. Richard probably wouldn’t, though.” Aidan grumbled. “I’m going to kill this kid.”

“No murder. Not here. This castle’s probably seen more than enough of that.” Dean joked. “Hey, let’s get back to somewhere warm. If Isaac’s going to turn up, it’s most likely going to be back at base camp. You know, where the electric fire is. So I can warm up.”

They wandered back through the hallway, Aidan being sure to point out the suit of armor to Dean… three times. Dean promised he’d photograph it, if only to make Aidan happy. Isaac wasn’t waiting for them in the main room, and Dean made quick work of changing into a dry set of clothes once Aidan told him what bag they were in. The Irishman felt a little guilty, appreciating the view while Isaac was still missing. Still, the kid wasn’t in any danger. Well, aside from the danger of being in trouble for playing with things he shouldn’t.

Once Dean was warm again and had packed up his film from the shots outside, they set about exploring the place, Dean’s digital camera slung around his neck – just in case the muse caught him. Batman was told to ‘stay’ in the warm room, just in case Isaac came back. The dog had no trouble falling asleep in front of the electric fire.

The castle was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. Stone walls and wood floors, chandeliers that glistened in the light of their torches, an old grandfather clock without the weights, and other relics that the two actors knew better than to touch. It felt as though the castle went on forever, so many rooms to look through. Dean’s camera was in use more often than not.

“Isaac, where have you gotten off to? If you come out, we’ll have some warm soup and chips. You like chips. I will most definitely not beat your little bum for hiding from me…” Aidan called out.

“Oh, yes, that is most certainly is the best way to get a child to come back.” Dean snickered. “Aidan, we’re going to have a talk about how to handle children…”

“What else should I do?” Aidan sounded annoyed. “This stopped being funny ten minutes ago, he’s hiding from us! We’ve checked every room on this floor!”

Except for their own voices echoing in the dark, the castle was silent.

So Dean jumped nearly three feet when he heard a child’s giggle.

“Did you hear that?” Dean hissed, flashing the torch around the hall.

“It’s probably the brat.” Aidan shrugged.

“That wasn’t his laugh. His laugh is lower-pitched…” Dean frowned, still looking around. “That sounded like a little girl.”

“There aren’t any little girls, not unless Isaac can spontaneously change gender.” Aidan said impatiently. “Which I don’t think he can do. Nothing I read said that.”

“No, I asked Ian about that when I read that Loki could. Ian said no Greek had ever done that.” Dean muttered. “It still sounded too high, that couldn’t have been Isaac.”

Another giggle, this time not ten feet from them. Both actors spun and flashed their torches in the direction of the laughter.

“He’s hiding, he has to be.” Despite himself, Aidan’s breathing had sped up, and his eyes darted around nervously.

“Where? It’s a hallway. There’s nothing for him to hide IN. Or under, or around.” Dean said quietly. He was certain his own heart rate had picked up. “Maybe an echo?"

“Yeah, an echo.” Aidan agreed. “An echo that waited thirty seconds? Can echoes do that?”

“Maybe a mouse?” Dean suggested. “A chittering mouse?”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Aidan nodded. “How much more of this hall do we have?”

“Two rooms and that’s it. Five minutes. Come on, we’ll check those and then head back to base.” Dean promised. They went through both rooms – bedrooms – looking under the bed and in closets and chests, just in case Isaac had gotten himself stuck in one. No luck. They returned back to their camp, where Aidan dug out the chemlights James had given them (reminding himself to tell the older Irishman ‘thank you’ when they picked up Abigail), and wrapped a spare blanket around himself. Dean copied him, bundling up as much as possible. When Dean lifted a bright blue blanket up from where it had been folded on a chair, something fell out.

“A toy car?” Dean picked it up, discarding the blanket and inspecting the item. It was made of tin and was a wonderful model of a classic model ‘A’ car. “Aid, come here, look what I found.” He showed it off. “Gorgeous workmanship, don’t you think?”

“It’s old…” Aidan frowned. “And I’ll bet I know where it came from. It’s probably the missing toy from that curio case. Our little nephew-brother stole it. I’m going to have a talk with Rich and Ian when we get back.”

The pair wandered back to the parlour to replace the stolen toy. It was still dark, but at least they knew where they were going. Dean shone the light while Aidan snuck back to the cabinet, replacing the car in the empty spot. It fit perfectly. But, there was a problem.

The marbles were gone.

“Blast it all, he’s nicking them one by one!” Aidan groaned. “Dean, Isaac’s in this area, we’ve lost the marbles, now.”

“Says you,” Dean laughed. “No, seriously, the marbles that were here… aren’t here. He must’ve taken them while we were looking for him. Sodding little thief.” The Irishman grumbled. “If I’d known he would be this much trouble…”

Dean laughed and flicked the torch around the room, trying to see if a short God would turn up. “Aid…”

“Yeah, I know, we’re going to have to tell Rich. The lad should be grounded for this…”

“Aid!”

“What?” The brunette turned around, looking annoyed.

“Where’d the tea service go?”


	3. No such thing as ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aidan and Dean search for Isaac... and come up with more than they expected.

The two actors found the tea service in the kitchen, washed and dried.

That alone was frightening, since Isaac had acted out the one and only time they asked him to rinse his plate.

Still no sign of the child.

They still had the second floor, the basement, and the attic to check, all of which could be enticing for a boy Isaac’s age. They returned back to their ‘base camp’, where they were greeted by Batman, who whined until he got a pat on the head.

“What the?” Dean frowned, looking around. “That’s weird.”

“What is?” Aidan searched through the bags to see if Dean had packed a second torch – the faster they could look, the faster they could get out of there.

“I don’t remember folding that blanket back up. I thought I dropped it.” He pointed to the blue blanket he’d found the toy car in. Sure enough, it was neatly folded and sitting beside the camp chair.

Aidan stared at the blanket, then closed his eyes and shook his head. “You probably forgot.”

Dean didn’t answer. He put the blanket back on the camp chair and headed towards the staircase to the second level. He knew he hadn’t folded that blanket. And even though Aidan had stated (repeatedly) that he didn’t believe in ghosts, the Irishman was a little jumpy tonight.

The Kiwi tried to shake the thoughts of haunts away as Aidan found the spare torch and bounded over to him, showing off his prize. They headed up the creaky stairs, careful of any weak spots in the wood. The second floor didn’t seem to yield an eight-year-old child with a penchant for vintage toys. Bedrooms, a study (it took Aidan forever to drag Dean away from that, so many things to photograph!), a lounge, and a grand-looking room that neither actor could work out the purpose of. But no miniature God.

“What do you think was in here?” Aidan asked, flashing his torch around the empty, gilded room. “A music room, maybe? Acoustics aren’t great in here, though.”

“Probably a mancave. I wouldn’t leave my mancave things behind.” Dean suggested as he snapped some photographs of the empty room.

Aidan snorted. “Your ‘mancave’ has your art stuff in it. That’s not a mancave. I want a mancave. With billiards. It needs billiards.”

“We could probably turn one of the spare bedrooms into one…” Dean mused as he moved around room, getting different angles (and a few shots of Aidan). “Billiards, darts, big tele, a wet bar…”

Aidan thought about the work that would take. “Or we could just go down to the pub.”

“Or that, yeah.” Dean laughed.

There was a ‘thud’ from outside the room, followed by footsteps running.

Both actors pointed their torches at the open door.

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked quietly.

“Oh, yeah.If… If that’s the kid, I’m going to kill him.” Aidan whispered back. “It’s not funny, anymore.”

“Who else would it be?” Dean sounded a little worried. “Batman?”

“Your dog could sleep through one of Ian’s storms. Ten quid says he’s back asleep, laying in our blankets.” Aidan frowned. “It’s gotta be the kid, right?”

“Right.”

“Isaac, come on out, we know you’re there!” Aidan shouted, heading out of the door. Too bad he didn’t flash the torch downwards in his rush. The Irishman skidded for half a second, flailing about for half a second before grabbing onto the doorframe to keep himself upright. “What the fuck?”

Dean was at his lover’s side in an instant. “Aid? Having trouble with the floor? At least it’s not the woods this time. How did you survive dancing with your klutz curse?” The Kiwi teased.

“Not funny,” Aidan groaned. “I will have you know that I never once fell while dancing with someone who knew what they were doing. It’s you, you’re bad luck. What was that?” Aidan, having gotten his bearings, shined his torch at the floor by the door. The marbles sat there, beautiful blues and greens littered on the floor, flashing in the light of the torch.

Dean burst out laughing. “We found your marbles!”

“My sense of humour is SO gone,” Aidan sighed.

Aidan determined the only thing hurt was his pride, and they decided to return the marbles and then check the basement. They cleaned up the toys, making sure Aidan hadn’t broken any when he’d slipped. As they retrieved the spare torch, both young men were certain they heard more giggling.

Neither one mentioned it.

Back down the stairs and to the old parlour to put the marbles back. Batman didn’t even wake up from his spot in front of the electric fire, burrowed in a spare blanket, when they passed by. Smart dog. Back down the familiar hallway, but Aidan stopped halfway through.

“Hey, Deano?”

“Yeah?” Dean was focused on the beam of light from his torch, shining down the hallway.

“The armor… was it always like that?”

“Like what?” Dean looked over at where Aidan was shining his torch. The suit of armor stood in same alcove it had every time they’d passed it, the same alcove that Dean had photographed at Aidan’s insistence. “Yeah, of course it was.”

“No, I swear that hand was at his side, not on his sword.” Aidan shook his head, pointing. True to his words, the suit of armor’s right hand rested on the pommel of the well-cared for ancient sword, as if readying himself for a fight.

“Aidan, I love you, but you can’t remember what we had for breakfast half the time. You delete anything you consider ‘not important’.” Dean shook his head, smiling.

“Okay, yeah, but this was too cool to delete. I mean… It’s a freakin’ suit of armor! I know the way it was standing!”

Dean sighed and lifted his digital camera, juggling the torch while flipping through the photographs. “Suits of armor don’t move by themselves. Here, I’ll show you…” He stared at the screen, going through the photos until he found the one he wanted, sticking his tongue out a bit like Aidan did when he was thinking. The Irishman was rubbing off on him. “Found the pics! See, look… oh…”

Both actors stared at the display on the camera. The right arm of the armor was resting at the side in the photographs. “Don’t move on their own, huh?” Aidan glanced at his lover. “Then how did it do that?”

“More of Isaac’s pranks?” Dean guessed. “He’s a creative and clever little boy, and he has a whole lot of knowledge to back it up.”

“As long as it’s not maths,” Aidan grumbled. “You really think he could get the armor to stay that way?”

“Being practical, yes, I think so.” Dean nodded.

“What’s the impractical?” Aidan asked, looking nervous.

“You said you don’t believe in ghosts…”

“Of course I don't. I’m not in primary school.” Aidan frowned. The notion was absolutely ridiculous at best, and pure stupidity at worst! Dean couldn’t expect him to believe in ghosts and spirits! Next thing he knew, they’d want him to believe in faeries!

Of course, they DID have Greek Gods walking around… but that was totally beside the point.

“Right, then.” Dean let his camera fall back against his chest, the hefty strap holding it up. “Conversation over. No more looking at photos. Let’s find Isaac and get out of this creepy place.”

That was… odd. The Kiwi had been practically bounding around outside, and had acted like a three-year-old being told they were going to the seaside when he’d gotten the call. And the blonde could get lost in his art, looking at the photographs he'd taken for hours on end. Why the sudden change in heart? “Deano, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Come on, marbles to the cabinet and then we’ll continue the search.”

Aidan shined his light in the blonde’s eyes. “You’re lying. You’re really good at acting smooth, but I know you better. Comes with living with you. And sleeping with you. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just cold. It’s a good thing we didn’t bring Abby here, Lee would kill us.”

“And now you’re changing the subject,” Aidan scowled.

Dean paused, biting his lip and shifting from foot to foot. Finally, he nodded to himself and pulled the camera back up. “I saw this when going through the photos.” He showed Aidan one picture in particular.

It wasn’t anything special. Dean had taken it of one of the hallways, going for a low-light ‘spooky’ look. Aidan had been behind him, patiently waiting while the Kiwi finished his shots so they could search.

So who was the person standing in the hallway, staring directly at the camera?

The hazy figure was too tall to be Isaac, and it looked like it was wearing a long black dress with a white apron. The face was hidden in shadow, but it was obviously human.

“Holy fucking Christ…” Aidan crossed himself. “There wasn’t anybody there!”

“Nope,” Dean said quietly. “You, me, Isaac, and Batman. We’re it. No such thing as ghosts, right?”

Aidan nodded slowly, trying to tell himself that he was letting his imagination get the best of him. “Maybe… maybe dust moving around?”

“What dust? This place is perfectly clean. Maybe our breath in the air made it?” Dean suggested. 

“Yeah, that’s gotta be it.” Aidan nodded. “It’s only on the one photo?”

“That’s all I saw. Just the one. Just a coincidence.” Dean gave the younger man a wan smile. “Pure luck.”

“Yeah… luck.” Aidan mumbled.

They headed back to the parlor and replaced the marbles without incident. No more toys had gone missing (thankfully. Aidan wasn’t sure he’d survive another slip), but Isaac was still nowhere to be seen. The basement was the next place they could look.

It wasn’t hard to find the stairs to the basement. Dean stood in the doorway, shining the torch down to make sure the stairs were safe. Aidan poked his head over Dean’s shoulder, looking down at the stairs nervously.

“You know, I don’t think he went down there. Maybe he went outside to play in the snow? We should check outside. It’s dark, he needs to come in.” Aidan declared. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time in the basement.”

“Afraid?” Dean teased.

Aidan pointed his torch at Dean's face. “I jumped out of an aeroplane and stared down a Greek God that wanted to kill us. I am not a candy-ass.”

“Jimmy said you screamed the entire way down. And the rest of the Gods were standing in the room with us when we dealt with Hephaestus.” the Kiwi laughed.

“Stuff it.”

Dean leaned back and gave Aidan a quick kiss on the cheek. “A quick check and we’re done. Isaac can’t hide forever.”

“Are you telling ME that… or yourself?” Aidan smirked. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Dean took a deep breath and headed down the staircase.

Aidan gulped and followed.

The stairs creaked as the two actors headed down them. If the upper two floors were creepy, this place was downright frightening. It seemed as though anything deemed ‘unnecessary’ or ‘unusable’ went down here. Old dress mannequins, broken furniture, a rocking horse, coal (who kept coal nowadays?), a wood-burning stove and the like.

And it was dark. The sun had set while they were searching, and the house itself had very little light, but it seemed like the basement just absorbed the beams from their torches. Dark, damp, cold, and scary. Dean managed to keep a calm facade, telling himself that this was no different than being on a set – only with no cameramen or directors. Aidan, despite himself, kept a keen eye out, checking every shadow.

“Wow… look at all this junk! There has to be two hundred years’ worth of stuff down here!” Dean looked around, trying to quell his nerves and distract himself. “Check it out, an old sewing machine! Mum would love that, she’s got a thing for antiques. Hey, how do you think they got that old fridge down here?”

“Really, really carefully.” Aidan said quietly, looking nervous.

“Aidan, my love?”

“Yeah?”

“If you’re scared of the ghost in the photo, I’ll hold you.” Dean winked. 

That finally brought a laugh from the Irishman. “I’m not afraid of anything. But, well, if you’re scared, I’ll hold YOU.”

“We’re a pair of terrified idiots, aren’t we?” Dean shook his head. “Scared of a basement.”

“I told you, I am scared of absolutely nothing,” Aidan said, trying to sound sure of himself. Dean laughed.

They searched the basement, their torches cutting through the dark as much as possible. Dean found some old paintings that Aidan had to drag him away from, and Aidan somehow managed to locate an old rugby helmet and only refrained from trying it on because Dean reminded him of all the sweaty people who’d probably worn it.

“Aid, come here, check this out!” Dean poked his head out of the only door in the basement, one that led to a bricked-up room. The Irishman obliged, putting down the toy racing car he’d found. The room Dean had discovered was colder than the rest of the basement, and filled with racks and racks of bottles, all meticulously stored. The light from his torch reflected off the bottles into thousands of different colours, making the room look like it was full of gems. “Look at all this! I wonder how long they’ve been down here.”

“There’s got to be a thousand bottles in here!” Aidan gaped. “Who keeps this much wine just laying around?”

“People who can afford it,” Dean shrugged. He wandered over to check one of the labels. “Expensive brands, too. Oh, wow, this one’s from the late 1800’s. And this one is-“

There was a resounding ‘thud’ from the wall, and both actors turned and pointed their torches at the door.

It was now shut.

“That was weird,” Aidan frowned at the door. “Self-closing, huh? I hate it when they do that.” He wasn’t going to admit that it was a little spooky. Nope, not him. Since he was closest to the door, Aidan stepped over and pushed at it, to reopen the door so fresh air could get in…not because he was being slightly claustrophobic.

The door wouldn’t move.

“Deano, hey Deano, how did you get this thing open? It gets stuck really easy.” Aidan used his shoulder to shove at it, to no avail.

“It came open easily for me,” Dean set down the bottle he’d been inspecting (a French wine with a very faded label) and stepped over to help, lending his weight to help Aidan get the door back open.

Still no luck.

This was not the time to panic. Just because the door was stuck, that didn’t mean they were trapped. Dean reminded himself that where there was a will, there was a way. And he and Aidan were certainly both very willful. “Let’s try it on 3. 1…2…3!” They both shoved at the door, pushing with all their might. They were two strong lads, fairly fit and working together. But no matter how hard they pushed, groaned, or strained, the door refused to move.

“What the fuck is wrong with this thing?” Aidan kicked the door – twice.

“Here, let me see in there…” Dean gently moved Aidan out of the way. He took his wallet out and located his library card. With a silent apology to libraries everywhere (and Peter, Benedict, and Martin), he jammed the card in the doorframe, shining his torch in the gap. “Bugger all.”

“What?” Aidan leaned down, trying to figure out what Dean was doing.

“It’s not just closed, it’s locked. See, there? It’s been locked on us.”

“You’re certain?” The Irishman paled a bit.

Dean nodded. “Richard was teaching me about locks, when you went to film in America. He said it was a useful skill. That’s a deadbolt, and it is definitely locked.”

“Well, unlock it.”

“There’s a reason why Rich hasn’t taught me any more, I’m bollucks at it. I’ve got my wallet, the torch, my camera, and a pack of gum. There’s no way.” Dean shook his head. He really, really wished he’d been better at lockpicking, that Richard hadn’t lost patience with him, or that he’d paid better attention.

While Dean fussed with the lock (with no success), Aidan took his torch and scanned the walls and floors. Perhaps they’d bumped a secret lever that had shut the door? A pressure pad? That was always happening in films… He checked for breaks in the brickwork, but came up empty. He took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty. He idly wondered if he should try counting by prime numbers, but had to stop after 47. “We’re stuck?” He was not going to panic – Martin liked saying that: ‘Don’t Panic’. He said it came from a book that Athena liked. ‘Don’t Panic.’ Good advice. They were stuck in the basement of a (NOT HAUNTED) castle, where it was cold and damp, the kid they were supposed to be watching was still missing, and they couldn’t get out. He checked his pocket to see if he still had his mobile on him. If he could call Jimmy, the God could come get them, right? He could pop a key out of nowhere to save them…

But Aidan’s mobile had been left in their makeshift campsite after he’d talked to Richard.

Screw acting mature and ‘Don’t Panic’!

The Irishman banged on the door with his fist. “Hey, Isaac! Anybody! Hey, we’re down here! Open the bloody door!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, which was not negligible. “ISAAAAAAAC! This isn’t funny! You are NOT allowed to lock us in the basement! Isaac, you let us out RIGHT NOW or I WILL tell Richard and Lee!”

Well, that was as good a plan as any.

Dean joined in, banging and kicking at the door. Aidan shouted louder than he did, but his voice carried better. Together, they shouted, threatened the eight-year-old, beat the door until their hands were sore and bruised, and in the end, they only had their own exhaustion to show for it. According to Aidan’s watch, it had been half an hour since the door had shut on them, and still no response from the outside world.

And it was getting colder and colder in the wine cellar.

Aidan sank down against one wall, bringing his knees up to his chest. “I can’t believe we’re fucking STUCK in here! Richard’s going to kill us, you know that, don’t you?”

“No, Richard’s going to make sure we’re safe and then laugh his ass off at us.” Dean corrected, trying to lighten the mood. “And then he’ll tell us we’re grounded, even though he’s not our father. If Lee doesn’t kill us, that is.”

It didn’t help Aidan’s temper.

“You and your bloody stupid photography ideas. Between getting hurt while rambling and now this… Dean, why can’t you be like normal people and just take pictures of models?” Aidan snapped at the Kiwi.

“I thought you liked my location shots…” Dean said quietly.

“Right now, I don’t! I’m here, I’m fucking cold, and we wouldn’t be locked in here if you hadn’t decided to investigate the damn wine!” Aidan spat. His Irish temper had been slowly going coming to a boil while they’d been searching, not to mention all the things that were creeping into his imagination. “This is all your fault!”

Dean blinked. “Now hang on. If you hadn’t let Isaac go running about this place, we wouldn’t have had to look for him. We wouldn’t even be down here!”

“Really? Do you know why we’re here?” Aidan growled. “We’re all here because YOU wanted photos of a creepy old falling apart castle! This place isn’t even all that cool! It’s fucking creepy, which you didn’t seem to pick up on when we first got here! There’s a bloody REASON why nobody’s lived here in twenty years, Dean!” He ended by shouting the words at his boyfriend.

Yes, Dean had realised the place was spooky when they’d first arrived. He’d also realised that Aidan was usually fearless when it came to flying in the face of danger. Hadn’t it been him who’d come up with the ideas for their pranks against Orlando? Or been the one who’d really wanted to see if he could hang onto the tree like the stunties did? Aidan loved doing things that proved he was fearless, as long as it didn’t involve forests, rambling, or camping. “You didn’t have to come, you know.” The Kiwi retaliated, barely noticing that he was shouting, too. “I was happy getting all my things together, and the next thing I know, you had the kids and yourself bundled up!”

“And what would you have said if I had told you I didn’t want to come? Hm? You would’ve put on that puppy-face and made me feel guilty!”

“MY puppy face, do you know how many times YOU”VE done the puppy face? You’re more practised than Batman!”

“You know what, Dean, just shut the fuck up! All right!” Aidan wrapped his arms around himself and looked away.

And that was it. The two sat in the wine cellar, not talking, only giving each other the barest of glances. It wasn’t until Aidan’s torch ran out of batteries and the Irishman stubbornly fought with it that Dean noticed Aidan was shaking. Come to think of it, the temperature was probably close to freezing down here…

“What are you doing?” The brunette demanded when Dean stepped over and put his jacket on the younger man’s shoulders.

“You’re cold. I’d hate myself if I didn’t take care of you.” Dean said simply. He’d always made sure his Aidan was taken care of, even before they’d been in a relationship. He wasn’t about to stop now, just because they were angry at each other. “And, Richard would yell at me for letting you freeze.”

“Then you’ll freeze. Take it back, I’m not cold.” Aidan lied, starting to pull the warm coat off.

“Liar,” Dean gave him a ghost of a smile. He sat down next to his Irishman on the floor. “I’m sorry. I should have tried to see if they’d let me photograph next week, when we didn’t have the kids.”

“Yeah… and I should have been watching the brat. Rich called, you know. He was upset that I’d let Isaac go play on his own. I should’ve known better.” Aidan admitted quietly. “Sorry for shouting at you, that was stupid.”

“I shouted back, remember? We’re cold, tired, trapped, and in a haunted house. That’s enough to stress anybody.” Dean smiled. He could tell his lover was about to protest that there was no such things as ghosts, so he leaned over and put his head on Aidan’s shoulder. “And now you have my coat, which means that you need to keep me warm.”

Just as the Irishman was about to wrap his arm around his boyfriend, the door suddenly clicked and slowly creaked open. The two actors looked at each other in confusion, then pulled themselves up to investigate.

There was nobody outside the door.

Dean flashed his torch around the basement, making sure Isaac wasn’t hiding in the shadows, but the room seemed clear of anything living, save a few mice Dean was sure had taken up residence. “What do you think happened?” Dean asked, looking around.

“I think this building hates us,” Aidan scowled. “Let’s get out of here, before the basement door decides to shut instead.” He grasped onto Dean’s spare hand and tugged him towards the staircase.

Dean let Aidan lead, shining the torch in their path. He thought he was doing a fairly decent job until… he ‘discovered’ a stuffed goat… by falling over it. He landed on the stone floor hard, taking a whole shelf of old tin boxes with him.

“Deano? Dean, you hurt?” Aidan gasped, pulling the boxes off as quickly as he could.

“Yeah… ow… that hurt. I think I hit my knee.” Dean groaned. “Help me up?”

Aidan obliged, and realised quickly that Dean couldn’t put any weight on that leg. The hiss of pain was something the blonde couldn’t hide from him. He put Dean’s arm over his shoulder and his own arm around Dean’s waist. “Heh, just like the first time you took me out for your photographs… you remember that? I sprained my ankle on a tree root. Now you’ve been attacked by a goat.”

“I’m not living this down anytime soon, am I?” Dean asked through the pain.

“Nope. Here’s the stairs. One at a time. Carefully. Come on.” Aidan helped the Kiwi up the stairs and through the hallways to their encampment, their argument forgotten.

Isaac was waiting for them. He was nestled up with Batman, having located one of his colouring books. Nearby, two other books lay open, with crayons scattered. The eight-year-old looked up at them when they arrived. “Where have you been? Hide and seek is no fun if you stop looking. Even Daisy and Micah got bored, and they’re really, REALLY patient.”

“Daisy and … Micah?” Dean asked as Aidan settled him into a camp chair. 

“My new friends. They live here. They said I could play with their toys.” Isaac shrugged. “You stopped playing with us, so we came here where it’s warm. That and Miss Elise got angry at us for having a tea party. She told us to stop making messes. She’s a… what does Daddy Lee call them? Obsessive Computer Disc Order? She cleans a lot. Oh, you put the toys back, right? Can I go get the car again?”

Dean shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough fun.” His knee was killing him, and he really, really wanted to get out of this place. Especially with Isaac talking about people that Dean and Aidan couldn’t see.

“Pleeeeeeease?” Isaac begged. “It’s just down the hall, here.” The boy jumped up and headed out to the hallway.

Aidan rushed after him – he was not letting this child out of his sight a second time! He caught up with the boy in front of the knight’s alcove, literally picking him up. “Don’t go off on your own again. You scared us the first time! Did you turn invisible and hide from us?”

“That’s the point of hide and seek, isn’t it? To hide?” Isaac sounded annoyed. “Why are you angry?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, let’s see, strange photos, locking doors, creepy laughter, moving tea services! And the knight who I SWEAR moved…”

Isaac glanced at the alcove. “I haven’t seen him move.” Aidan followed the child’s gaze. The knight was standing, hand off the sword this time. But now, one hand was held slightly higher than the other, balled into a fist and holding something.

Holding an old-fashioned key, made of the exact same metal as the lock to the wine cellar.

“No fuckin’ way…” Aidan’s eyes widened. “Dean, we’re leaving… NOW!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome! Please feed the author!


	4. Escape!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which James reveals his true intentions with Abby, and Dean tries to paint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not posting last week, there were some personal issues that had to be dealt with.
> 
> This was uploaded very quickly, so if there are any formatting errors (such as paragraphs continuing when they shouldn't or a space missing), please let me know, I have no problem with fixing it. :)
> 
> As usual, special thanks goes out to W.D., who made sure to keep me writing even through all the issues. Thank you for the persistence of phoning me every day, you are stubborn and awesome!

Aidan had to pack up all the lights and extra equipment, since Dean’s knee had swollen up. Of all the things the Kiwi had packed, he’d forgotten his medical kit, and Aidan hadn’t thought to bring it. It figured, the one bloody time Dean went somewhere without extra bandages and ice packs was the one time he needed it.

Instead, Dean was relegated to keeping Isaac distracted. As soon as the boy had realized they were leaving, he’d thrown a little bit of a tantrum. The actors figured they should be grateful, a tantrum from Ian meant thunderstorms and flooding… a tantrum from Isaac meant any precious metals rattled and there were some extra spooky happenings, but nothing more. Dean helped calm the child down, taking out Isaac’s copy of Treasure Island from the bag and asking the child to read it to him. As they finally left, Isaac insisted on leaving his most prized possessions – his crayons and his colouring books. And when he found out that James had given them coins (thanks to Dean emptying his pockets while trying to find the castle’s key), the child was quite insistent that they leave the money ‘so Daisy and Micah can give it to the boatman when they’re ready’.

Aidan helped his lover to the car, made sure Isaac had his safety belt on and that Batman was secured, then drove them back to James’s home.

Both the child and Dean had fallen asleep by the time they’d arrived, so it was up to Aidan to retrieve little Abigail from her care-giver. He knocked on the door once, twice, and James finally opened it on the third try.

“Ah, hello. Later than expected, wasn’t it? Where’s your other half and the brat? You didn’t leave them at the castle, did you?” James frowned at him.

“They’re asleep in the car,” Aidan rolled his eyes. “I can’t stay long. Is Abby all right? Has she been too much trouble?”

“Oh, she’s a gem. Slept most of the day, played with her toys, and we watched a Disney film. She likes the singing. Couldn’t ask for a better baby to watch.” James grinned. He still hadn’t moved from his doorway.

“Uhm… Jimmy?”

“Yes?”

“I have to take her home, now. And I’m cold standing out here. And the car is going through petrol as we stand and talk.” Aidan stamped his feet slightly and rubbed his hands.

“Oh, right…” James looked as though the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He ushered the younger actor in.

Inside the home looked much the same as it had before, except for a few small changes. A giant rocking elephant (not a horse, no, too mundane) sat in the living room. Another large creature, a giant stuffed Pegasus, sat nearby. Abigail was asleep, laying on the stuffed toy and sucking her thumb. She was wearing a lovely yellow dress that Aidan didn’t recognize. “That’s odd… I don’t remember those from before…”

“Oh, well… you know… you start shopping online and then you just can’t help but buy…” James said, trying to look innocent. Aidan raised an eyebrow at him. “Or… create instead of having to buy it… Oh, don’t look at me that way! You should have seen her face light up every time I made something new for her! Best magic trick in the world! By the way… do you think you can take all this to your house? Mary and Peggy should be here next week, and it would be hard to explain…”

“Christ! How much did you make?” Aidan gaped.

“Well… what you see here… and about four or five more outfits, including this pretty little Renaissance-style Christening dress that I saw in an old photo. With a bonnet, of course. And a new pram – we went for a stroll - don't worry, I bundled her up well enough. And a music box, she likes those. And some puppets. Maybe a few more odds and ends. You know, the basics.”

“Basics?” Aidan repeated, dumbfounded, as he began to collect the things he’d brought for the baby. “I’m surprised you didn’t make her a bouncy-castle.”

“Oh, that would have been nice, wouldn’t it? Next time!”

“She can’t even WALK yet!” The young actor protested.

James looked offended at that. “So… how are we going to get all of this out to your car?”

“What the bloody hell are you thinking? What am I supposed to DO with all this! It won’t fit in the boot, even without Dean’s stuff in there!” Aidan frowned, making a sweeping motion around the room. “Christ, James! This is madness!” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. Was this some sort of revenge for something he’d done on set? Or was Iapetus, God of Creation and Mortality, just really missing his daughters that much? The divorce HAD hit him hard.

James looked at the giant Pegasus and the other new toys littering his living room. “Ah. Well, I’ll find a way to bring it over. Come on, don’t give me that look! Richard will love all the new toys for his baby girl!”

“Richard is going to HANG us…” Aidan sighed. “Help me pack up…”

Aidan collected the items he recognized, shoving them back into the duffle bag he’d brought earlier in the day. James was no help whatsoever, and kept handing him things Aidan was certain Abby hadn’t owned when he’d dropped her off. Finally, he shouldered the bag and lifted the baby from her sleeping spot.

Which was, of course, the wrong thing to do.

Abigail was apparently not done with her nap, and was Not Happy that she’d been rudely awoken, even if it was by the person who’d given her chocolate pudding for dinner. She made a huffing noise, followed by a half-wail, a hiccup, and then whined periodically as the Irishman put her little snowsuit on her, rubbing her eyes and trying to shove Aidan away. James followed them out, stopping the younger Irishman long enough to wrap a blanket (yet another new item) around the baby. He helped load the infant into her car seat, then shoved the giant Pegasus stuffed toy in with her, nearly smothering the child in the process.

This, of course, woke Dean up, and the Kiwi blinked and shifted in his seat, trying to see what was going on behind him. “What’s that?”

“It’s going to squish the kids!” Aidan protested, tugging the toy back out. “They’re not going to be able to breathe!”

“It’s a plush toy, they can breathe around it. Trust me, I don’t think you want to find out what happens when she finds her new favourite toy is missing. Oh, hello, Dean. Too lazy to get out of the car?”

Dean yawned. “Bum knee. Here, hand that over, I can hold it up here. More space.” James gladly handed over the toy and Dean wrapped his arms around it, much to Aidan’s dismay. "Hey, got anything for my knee?" James grinned and popped a crutch into existence, showed it to Dean, then put it in the back of the car, setting it in the floor in front of Isaac.

The boy, who had woken in all the chaos, frowned slightly at the crutch, then spotted the large plush toy nearly smothering Dean. “It’s a Pegasus! Iapetus, can I have one, too? Or even better, can I have a Cerberus?”

Aidan finally managed to get into the driver side and turn the car on. “No! No more giant toys! And you’re in trouble for earlier!”

Isaac crossed his arms and slouched into his seat. “You’re cruel! I’m telling Daddy!”

Just before shutting the door, James winked at the boy and popped a teddy-bear sized Cerebus toy into existence. Isaac took the toy and grinned up at the older God.

 

******************************************

 

That night, wearing his Spiderman pyjamas, Isaac carefully watched as Dean took the air freshener and sprayed it under the bed. “Daddy Richard’s monster spray doesn’t smell…”

“Yeah, well, Daddy Richard has magic powers, and I don’t. So I have to use the stuff that’s canned, and it smells.” Dean explained. “That’s how the not-magical people know it’s working.”

“Will the canned stuff make the monsters go away?” Isaac looked doubtful.

“Absolutely,” Dean nodded. He and Aidan (mostly Aidan) had searched high and low for a spare spray bottle, but had come up empty. So, Dean had been forced to get creative. Air freshener was the closest he could get. As long as Isaac thought it would work… No more monsters under the bed, thank you very much! Once was… more than enough for the Kiwi. He pulled himself up, using the bed to support his wrapped knee. “Now, we just have to wait for Richard and Lee to phone.”

Isaac nodded, climbing into the bed, opening his book and clutching his new toy and the home phone Aidan had given him. “Thanks, Koala-man.”

“Hey, you better watch it, you’re in enough trouble. Don’t forget, you’re still grounded.” Dean was NOT going to allow an eight-year-old to goad him into an argument. He’d shaved this morning, blast it all, and he wasn’t going to give the child any further satisfaction in his teasing. Instead, he tucked the child in and gave him a kiss on the forehead, which Isaac promptly scowled and rubbed off.

Then it was on to Abby’s room, one careful step at a time. Dean had changed the infant into a cute onesie with little penguins on – a hand-me-down from Martin’s daughter. Martin had apparently bought it ages ago while he and Benedict had been filming Sherlock… just to annoy the Norse God that couldn’t say ‘penguin’. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Richard had accepted the gift for the same reason.

Abigail was asleep, curled up in her crib. Her giant Pegasus lay on the floor next to the crib, and she was facing it, as though she’d been watching it as she drifted off. That was good.

As the Kiwi finished his rounds, Aidan returned from outside, hefting the last of the unused lights into Dean’s studio, bits of snow sticking to his curly hair. Dean tried to take the heavy equipment away from his Irishman, but Aidan merely gave his knee a pointed look, hefted the lights a bit, and headed away. As he did so, the home phone rang once, and was picked up by Isaac. That would be Richard and Lee with the bedtime story.

Five minutes later, Dean was in his comfortable bed, down to a pair of flannel sleep pants and reading a text from his mother that he’d missed earlier (much earlier) in the day. Aidan joined him, pulling off his heavy clothes as he headed towards the bed. “The lights are all put away.”

Dean smiled up at Aidan and set his mobile down. “Thank you for doing that. The kids are asleep. Well, Abby is. Isaac should be fine, he’s got monster spray, he’s talking to his parents, he should drop off fairly soon.”

“Good,” Aidan smirked, pants coming off and finally down to just his shorts. “Okay, Koala-man, they’ve had their fun today, let’s have some of our own… remember, you have to stay off that knee. So just lean back…”

The Irishman climbed into the bed, straddling Dean and dropping kisses everywhere. Dean was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and was thoroughly enjoying it (despite the ‘Koala-man’).

“Daddy Richard says he wants to talk to you. Uncle Aidan, why are you sitting on Uncle Dean in your underwear?” Isaac stood in the doorway, head cocked to the side and holding the phone.

It was no wonder why Richard and Lee had decided they needed some time to themselves…

Five more days…

 

***********************

 

Dean stared at the painting, chewing on the end of a brush while he sat on a stool. He wasn’t sure about the painting... perhaps just a few more brushstrokes here, to add depth… or maybe some where green over here… Or maybe it needed a little more blue…

He was broken from his reverie by the babbling of the infant, just waking up from her nap, in the corner of the studio. Aidan had taken Isaac out to get new colouring books (which was apparently a life-and-death situation, according to the God), and Abby, who’d been napping at the time, had been easy to move into the studio… as long as he brought that ridiculous Pegasus with.

“Good morning, precious one.” Dean glanced at the baby, then at his watch. “Ah, afternoon. Did you have a good nap?” In response, Abigail rolled over, pushed herself to a crawling position, and looked around curiously. She babbled some more, giggled, then maneuvered herself next to the plush toy, which she proceeded to chew on. “I will take it that’s a ‘yes’.” Dean smiled indulgently. He went back to his painting, staring at it. Perhaps some more light in this area…

As Dean was adding some more touches of sunlight to the painting, he heard a noise in the corner opposite of where the baby had been playing. He turned to see… Abigail, with his box of prints knocked over, happily crumpling the photos that had fallen out in her tiny hands. How had she gotten all the way over there?

“Abby, no, no, no… that’s not to play with…” Dean groaned, pulling himself (carefully, with that bruised knee) up from the stool. He picked her up, cuddling her and bouncing her slightly. “Those are Uncle Deano’s photos. See? Those are ones that aren’t good enough for his gallery.” He pulled the rumpled photo from her hand. “Oh, don’t do that to that one… that’s Uncle Aidan. See, look, he’s dressed like a soldier, but he’s sticking his tongue out.” He paused. “You really don’t care about that, do you?” She looked at him and reached for his necklace that held his shark tooth. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

Dean settled the infant back on the blanket, then walked (slowly) back to the living area to retrieve some of her favourite toys. A ball, plastic keys, a bear, some sort of bridge-thingy that Abby could kick the dangling toys, and a plush bell pepper (that one had been bought by Lee, apparently). He spread the toys out on the blanket in his studio, setting up a play area for her.

“There, look at all the wonderful things for you!” He smiled down at her as she giggled and kicked the dangling toys. “Your daddies love you, you know that? You’re the light of their life. Last time I phoned them, that’s all they could talk about was you. Made me and Aidan a bit jealous, we’ve been replaced.”

Abigail gurgled at him.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t be jealous. I spent enough time trying to make Richard go away, back when we were filming. Nothing we did worked. I suppose I should be grateful he hasn’t made us live with him… but I think Lee wouldn’t like that.” Dean smiled. Abigail continued on, not paying anything he said the slightest bit of attention. “All right, back to work. “ The Kiwi stretched his back and headed to his stool once again.

A few minutes later, Dean was happier with the yellow and reds, and was trying to ‘see the work with objective eyes’, as his father was always telling him to do. He squinted at the painting, trying to see if that would help. It didn’t. “I’m over thinking this one, I have to be. Argh…” He took a deep breath. This painting and he were just NOT getting along.

The artist glanced at the corner, looking to the infant for some sort of inspiration. She wasn’t there.

“What the hell?” Dean jumped up (ouch). There was nowhere she could have gone, she couldn’t even WALK! He spun, looking around the room. “Oh, dear Gods, if I lost you, Lee will kill me.”

As if to answer him, a giggle came from the open closet. Hiding in the shadow of the doors, Abigail sat, chewing on the strap to Dean’s camera bag. “Seriously? How did you do that? Come on, you’ve got toys out here, leave that thing alone, you’ll probably get ill…” He really didn’t want to think about all the places that strap had been… All through filming the Hobbit, in the forest, at the seaside…

Definitely not something a baby should be chewing on.

He picked her up and settled her back onto her play blanket.

This time, he kept half an eye out as he worked. Just a few moments after he’d settled her down, Abigail had gone from her sitting position to crawling… and in what seemed like a flash, was off again, tottering on her hands and knees towards the next ‘interesting’ thing.

Which happened to be Dean’s easel.

“Abby, no, you can’t play with this, no!” Dean reached down. She stared at him for half a second, as if contemplating that the word ‘no’ meant, then grabbed onto the easel and tried to pull herself up.

Though it didn’t fall over, the easel shook as the baby pulled herself into a wobbling stand and grinned up at Dean. She couldn’t talk, but the look on her face said it all ‘I can STAND! Isn’t that wonderful?’

It lasted about two seconds before the painting went tumbling to the floor with a crash. Startled, Abby let go of the easel and plopped back down on her diapered bum, wailing.

When Aidan finally arrived home a few minutes later, laden with Chinese take-away, he discovered Dean in his studio. The Kiwi was laying in the floor on his side, covered in what looked like his own oil paints, and a ruined painting lay nearby. Abigail was sitting in the middle of what had been a blank canvas, stripped down to her diaper. Splashes of colour graced both the infant and the canvas. Abigail had one of Dean’s brushes in her hand, and was using it to make green marks on the previously pristine canvas. Her work of art had little footprints and hand prints of different colours, streaks here and there, and Abigail looked to be loving it.

“What happened here?” Aidan asked. Isaac poked his head around the doorframe, eyes wide.

“This was easier. Trust me. Knowing my luck, it’ll sell for ten times what mine do.” Dean said by way of explanation. “Oh, do you mind heading back out? We need a playpen for her. And she’s named wrong… she should be named Alice… she’s a CURIOUS little thing, and I feel like she dragged me down the rabbit hole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ALWAYS, comments and constructive criticism are welcome!
> 
> Next chapter - A visitor shows up!


	5. Mothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During which Aidan and Dean get a visitor, Abby is rudely awoken by said visitor, Aidan is forced to do chores, and the two young Heroes discover how much of a challenge parenting could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am very sorry for the gap. Reality can very much suck, sometimes. W.D. kept pushing me to write, and I thank her for it. As usual, comments and constructive criticism are always welcome.
> 
> This chapter is a little dull, my apologies. It'll pick back up.

That evening, after Abby and Dean had been cleaned up, Isaac had been given a go at another canvas (in order to avoid an argument), and both ‘works of art’ had been hung up to dry, the lads and children were all curled up on the sofa, with Isaac’s dinosaur blanket over them. They were watching Cars, which Isaac apparently couldn’t get enough of. Abigail, tummy full, had dropped off to sleep while laying on Aidan.

The snow outside had finally stopped, though the electricity had wavered twice in the past hour, and the snow was now high enough that they wouldn’t get the car out without digging, something Dean’s knee protested vehemently.

Of course, with all the peace and quiet in the house, and the silence of the white wonderland outside… and the relaxed state the actors had finally managed to achieve… they were slowly drifting off to sleep.

The doorbell went off… repeatedly.

“Who the HELL is outside in this weather?” Aidan groaned.

Isaac’s eyes widened and he tugged on Dean’s sleeve. “Aidan just said a bad word…”

“Yeah… don’t repeat it. And don’t tell Lee.” Dean mumbled as Aidan got up, carrying Abigail, to open the door.

“Whoever the HELL is at our door had better run away fast!” Aidan tugged the door open, ready to give the tosser who’d shown up on his doorstep a good talking-to.

“Christ! It’s cold out there! And you haven’t shoveled your walk! Aidan, that’s laziness and you know it, getting out there won’t kill you and Dean.” The person at the door pushed her way in, past Aidan and the baby.

Aidan’s colour vanished from his face. “MUM?”

“Well, who else would dare come out here in this weather? Really, Aidan, I come all the way out here to make sure you’re all right in this storm and that’s the greeting I get?” She turned to look at him, taking off her scarf. “Oh… uhm… is there something I need to know?”

Aidan glanced down at the baby in his arms, who was clutching at him and shying away from the stranger. “Mum… I can explain… wait, where’s Dad?”

“Oh, the power went out in several towns, he’s on-duty, dealing with that. Your sister went on holiday in Spain, thankfully she’s missed this. Now, who is this little charmer?” Aidan’s mother, Eileen Turner, smiled at Abigail. “Are you adopting? Oh, wouldn’t be wonderful! Your sister hasn’t given me any grandchildren, and this little one is just a precious thing…”

“Mum… why are you here?” Aidan looked ready to cry.

The Irishman loved his parents, he really did. It wasn’t that they weren’t interested in his life or his adventures… it’s that they were TOO interested. And this wasn’t the first time one of his parents had shown up without ringing them, first.

Eileen stared at her son as if he was insane. “I have to have a reason to come visit you?”

“It would be nice…” Aidan said under his breath.

“All right, the power is out at our house. I brought lots of canned food, you know, a peace offering.” She held up the bags. “By the way, good evening, Dean. How come you haven’t gotten up to greet me? Your manners gone? … Wait, there’s two children. When did you get two children?”

Aidan obviously got his attention span from his mother. Actually, she might have been worse. Dean recalled that the one time Richard had met Aidan’s parents, he had declared he would ‘never do that again unless the world was coming to an end’. And Richard dealt with the Pace family!

“Hello, Mrs. Turner. I hurt my knee, so please don’t mind if I don’t get up. I see you’ve noticed Abby and Isaac. Isaac, say ‘hello’.” Dean nudged the child.

Isaac burrowed into his blanket some more. “Hello. Are you Aidan’s mum?” He said quietly.

“I am,” Eileen nodded. “Who might you be?”

“I’m Isaac Pace-Armitage. Which God are you?” Isaac tilted his head sideways.

“Pardon me?” Aidan’s mother’s eyes widened.

“It’s ah…uhm… it’s a game he plays. Ian started it with him. You remember Ian, right mum?” Aidan tried to distract his mother from the tangent she was on. She glared at him; he’d used that trick since he was six. Best to get on with it. “You know, Ian said he was Zeus, and Isaac says he’s Hades, it’s just a bit of fun. At least he’s learning the classics!”

Eileen scowled at her son. “A bit of fun? Pretending he’s Hades? Aidan, my little love, I think that pretending he’s a death god is not exactly healthy for a child. And Sir Ian McKellen was in on this? Wait, was that name Armitage? As in, your friend Richard?”

Deep breaths. “Yes, Mum. The kids are Richard’s and Lee’s. We’re watching them while the lads are on holiday.”

“I’m not a death god! That’s Thanatos! I’m the God of the Underworld, where the spirits go!” Isaac protested.

“Is there a difference?” Aidan’s mother looked confused. Aidan just nodded slowly. “Well… all right… mister Not-A-Death-God, that’s quite the accent you’ve got there. Are you from New Zealand, like Dean?”

“Australia,” Isaac sulked.

“That’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

“Mum,” Aidan intervened before Dean or Isaac could correct her. That was apparently something both of them took VERY seriously… and an easy way to annoy any New Zealander or Australian. Keep the peace… “Isaac’s got the main spare room, we’ve got Abby in the other. I mean, unless you want to kip on the couch, there really isn’t anywhere you can sleep. I can book you a nice hotel-“

“You’re trying to get rid of me? I’m not here ten minutes and you’re trying to get rid of me. I see how it is. My son thinks he’s all grown-up with his films and his boyfriend, doesn’t have time for his mother, nowadays. Can take care of someone else’s children, but won’t give me grandchildren…” Eileen went on and on.

“We can wheel Abby’s crib into our room,” Dean suggested. Aidan, standing behind his mother, shook his head. Dean ignored him.

“Oh, wonderful! See, Aidan, Dean has manners.” Eileen smiled and took her bag, dragging it down the hallway to the spare room.

Aidan glared at Dean. “Seriously?”

“She IS your mother…” Dean shrugged.

“She’ll never LEAVE! Not with Dad gone!” Aidan protested. “I love my Mum, but… she’s a handful! And now there’s kids here… she’ll NEVER leave!”

“She’s no worse than you on a bad day,” Dean pointed out. “Except she’s better at guilting people. Experience, I suppose. She’s stayed the night before…”

“Yes, when I could take her out through town, out of the house! She’ll go stir-crazy!”

“You really don’t see the similarities, do you?” Dean smiled back.

Aidan shook his head. “We are NUTHING alike. I don’t go bonkers if I’m inside for too long.”

“That’s because you’re lazy,” Aidan’s mother had reappeared in the room. “That walk still needs clearing…”

“I want to know how she does that,” Aidan grumbled.

“It’s a ‘Mum’ thing.” Eileen kissed him on the cheek, standing on her tiptoes to do so. “Now, let me see the baby…” She relieved Aidan of Abigail. “Oh, aren’t you precious! Look at those pretty blue eyes! Tiny fingers! Now, what are those silly boys doing, hm?” She glanced at the tele. “Watching children’s movies. Figures. Come along, let’s leave these boys alone. We can play tea party! Or dress-up. Oh, I remember when my little girl was your size, she had all the cutest little dresses! Knowing Aidan, he’s probably bought you something with footballs on. He doesn’t know how to treat a lady.”

Aidan refrained from rolling his eyes. Barely. As Eileen rounded the corner and headed back to her room, taking the infant with her, the Irishman called out: “Mum, I haven’t bought her anything with footballs on. I haven’t bought her anything at all. She had a million toys and dresses and shoes, she doesn’t need anything.”

“That’s not an argument you’re going to win,” Dean smirked.

Aidan hung his head, glancing out at the window at the snow. “I know. Let’s finish the film while she’s still busy.”

 

********************************

 

That night, they put Isaac to bed and said ‘goodnight’ to Mrs. Turner. After wheeling Abigail into their room again, Aidan was singing the infant to sleep. No matter what he said, his mother still held a hefty influence over him, and Dean could barely understand the lyrics through the the thick Irish accent.

“You know, you’re terrible at singing. You can’t carry a tune.” Dean smiled from the bed when Aidan had finished.

“Hey, I heard no complaints from the baby.” Aidan teased back. “It must be your eardrums that are broken.” He climbed into the bed and snuggled up with his Kiwi. “Oh, you’re warm. My warm Deano.” He smiled.

Dean pressed a kiss to Aidan’s cheek. “Glad to know you approve, you heat-thief. You steal my heart, then you steal my heat. I don’t know about you.”

“You can’t get rid of me, now.” Aidan shifted until he could wrap an arm around Dean’s middle. “You’re stuck with me. And my family.”

“I love you, too.” Dean grinned back. He managed to turn the bedside lamp off, then cuddled down in the blankets. “Sleep well.”

Four more days…

 

***************************************

 

Dean and Aidan were very rudely awoken by Abigail wailing at the top of her lungs.

“Please, dear GOD, make it stop...” Aidan groaned, pulling his pillow over his head.

Dean glanced at the bedside clock. 8am. Not an unreasonable time to wake up… if you had to.

But really, they didn’t have to. There was no filming, no phone appointments with agents, no interviews, no photography sessions… NOTHING. Even less than nothing, because it wasn’t like they could go anywhere unless the snow had melted.

Well, now they had to wake up, because Abigail had decided she didn’t like SOMETHING.

And that something would be Aidan’s mother, who had snuck into the bedroom, still in her dressing gown, and was trying to quietly take the child out of her crib.

The woman was making soothing noises to the little girl, at no avail. Aidan gave up, removed the pillow, and sat up in bed. “MUM? Oh, for the love of…! Do you have ANY idea what hour it is?”

“An hour that normal people are awake. And she’s probably hungry. Isaac’s been up for twenty minutes.” Mrs. Turner frowned at her son. “Come on, you’re awake now.”

“Mum, this is my BEDROOM. You can’t sneak into my bedroom!” Aidan groaned. “What if we weren’t wearing clothes? What if we’d been busy?”

“But you weren’t,” Mrs. Turner pointed out. “Come on, you can’t sleep the whole day away! I’ll make breakfast!” She turned and took the still-fussing child out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

“She’s worse than Richard! At least he lets me sleep in!” Aidan groaned. Dean just shook his head, trying to hide a smile. Apparently, Aidan didn’t get his ‘sleep everywhere’ genes from his mother.

They wandered into the kitchen together, passing the living area - the tele was on and turned to some cartoon, and Isaac was happily sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. Yet another thing to not tell Lee. The child barely noticed their existence as they passed through. By the time they got there, Aidan’s mother was puttering about in the kitchen, taking things out and making as much noise as possible, it seemed. Abigail was happily trying to eat (and mostly throwing) some cereal that Mrs. Turner had found in a cabinet, which had been dumped on her tray. The baby was getting more of it on the floor than in her mouth, but she seemed to be happy. That was good.

“Aidan, why don’t you have any wheat bread? It’s much healthier than white. And you’re low on margarine. Lots of eggs, though. That’s good. I’ll make a scramble for you lot. And potatoes, you need potatoes. You’re too thin again.”

“Mum, I’m getting ready for role, I have to keep weight off.” Aidan sighed. “Which is really, REALLY hard to for me to do. I hate the gym.”

“That’s nice, love.” It was quite obvious his mother wasn’t listening. “Onions and tomatoes… don’t you two keep anything fresh in here?” She rifled through their fridge.

“I think there’s an onion in the cupboard,” Dean pointed out. “We’re out of tomatoes, though.”

“Thank you, dear.” Eileen beamed at him and went on her merry way.

Aidan glared at his lover. “You realize that’s only encouraging her, don’t you?”

“Oh yes,” Dean grinned. “Which is why I’m doing it. By the way, we have bagels in the freezer.” The Kiwi pointed out to the Irishwoman.

Mrs. Turner retrieved the bagels. “I think I’ve got everything. Out, you two. Go watch the tele with Isaac.”

“Mum, we’re not ten years old, we don’t watch cartoons!” Aidan protested as his mother shoved both of them out of the kitchen. “Bloody hell, come off of it!”

“You keep that mouth shut or I’ll give you something to swear about, young man.” Eileen threatened.

“You swear as much as I do!” Aidan protested. It fell on deaf ears.

Dean and Aidan took seats on the couch, cuddled up together while they watched Isaac stare intently at the tele. It wasn’t long before breakfast was done and Aidan’s mother was ushering them into the kitchen to eat, though she gave her son a glare until he helped Dean hobble along. Dean, for the most part, argued that he was more than capable of walking from the living room to the kitchen. It didn’t matter.

Breakfast was a delicious scramble with hash, with juice, milk, and chocolate milk for Isaac. Eileen used up the last of the chocolate syrup on the child, seemingly unaware of Aidan’s ‘puppy’ look when she turned the bottle upside down to get the last few drops out. Well, she was aware of it, but since he got it from her, she was completely immune to such things. Abigail spent her breakfast making a mess in between Aidan’s mother spoon-feeding her some of her baby food and the occasional bit of egg (which she loved). Mrs. Turner also kept ‘accidentally’ dropping bits of egg on the floor, where a certain dog yummed them up very quickly. Spoiled thing.

“So,” Mrs. Turner smiled as Aidan put the dishes in the sink. “What is on your agenda for today? After shoveling the walk?”

“Nothin’,” Aidan shrugged. “Deano?”

“Well, my painting’s destroyed so… I’ve got no plans, either. Too bad we don’t have Adam’s Wii system, we could play MarioKart.” The Kiwi mused. Ah, the fond memories of sitting in Adam’s trailer playing MarioKart and Super Smash Brothers… and the even better memories of getting sloshed and then letting Richard have a go at the game system. And taking video of Richard trying to play – the God and electronics were at war… and the electronics were winning. “Isaac would like MarioKart, I think.”

“Video games?” Mrs. Turner sighed and shook her head. “My son and his boyfriend, the rising stars, want to play video games.”

Dean stifled a laugh. Aidan apparently came from a hardworking family, and his mother was never going to let it go that her son spent a great deal of time… ‘doing nothing’ in between roles. Oh, sure, there were auditions and photo shoots and interviews, not to mention five A.M. wake-ups calls… but she never got to see any of that. All she saw was Aidan loafing about… not that Aidan didn’t excel at loafing about, but… she also hadn’t seen the hell they’d gone through with the Hobbit… the exhausting days where they’d simply collapsed once they reached their bed, the broken fingers, doing all that work and seeing only a fraction of it in the movie.

“What would you like to do, Mrs. Turner? I mean, I’m not really up for anything that requires too much motion, but as long as it doesn’t bother my knee too much, I’ll be fine with it.” Dean excelled at keeping the peace.

Eileen thought about that, picking up Abigail and rocking her back and forth. “Well, Aidan’s bollucks at cards, but what about Cluedo? Or Monopoly? Something we can all do together?”

Aidan groaned. “Mum, you ALWAYS win at Cluedo! I swear, she cheats!”

“Can we play Monopoly? Daddy Lee bought a special Monopoly!” Isaac rushed off to ‘his’ bedroom, returning with a box. “See, look! Hobbit Monopoly! And it has a sword. Can I be the sword?”

“We need to have a talk with Lee about his licensed board games. It’s a bit overkill.” The Irishman shook his head.

“Overkill?” Dean repeated. “I think he’s doing it on purpose. He left it HERE with the kid.” After Aidan finally shoveled the walk (with much complaint), they settled on the floor in the living room, blankets brought out to sit on. In the end, Dean sat with his leg stretched out and Batman curled around him, Abigail took a nap on her quilt, and Isaac proceeded to trump them all at Monopoly.

 

******************************

 

“Dean, what did you do with my handbag? I was going to call Pat, make sure he’s safe in this weather.” Eileen poked her head into Isaac’s room, where Dean and the children were sprawled on the floor, playing with Isaac’s little toy cars. So far, all they’d really been doing was crashing them, but it amused the kids, so the Kiwi went with it. They’d built a city of spare boxes and tunnels of books, and Dean was apparently very good at making car noises. Abigail spent most of her time crawling after the cars and giggling.

Dean glanced up, looking confused. “You put it in the spare room right after you got here.”

“It’s not there,” Eileen protested. “I left it on top of my luggage. You put all my clothes in the drawers, what did you do with the handbag?”

“I didn’t put the clothes away.” Dean frowned.

“Well, we both know that Aidan’s not capable of it,” Eileen sighed. “It took everything I had to get him to fold laundry when he was teenager, let alone putting it away.”

“She’s right. Daddy Richard says Aidan is ‘allergic to laundry’.” Isaac piped up. Both adults in the room tried not to laugh at that.

Dean pulled himself to a sitting position. “Well, Aidan might be afraid of clean clothes, but he has to be the one who moved the handbag and put your things away. We’ve been in here since lunch. Sorry.”

“Well, thank you anyway.” Eileen said. Dean and Isaac went back to their cars, and she headed back through the house. Aidan had drifted off on the couch, arm over his eyes and sprawled over the entire thing. He’d located Abby’s plush Pegasus and spare blanket and was clutching the toy while snuggling under the warm blanket. His mother rolled her eyes and shook her son slightly, but he only shifted and muttered “No three-headed dogs in the house…”

“You’re taking that whole Greek thing a little too far,” Eileen sighed. Still, her boy looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was astounding, the differences between awake and asleep. Aidan was always bouncing about and hyperactive when awake, a right demon, especially when he’d been in his teens. But asleep, he’d snuggle with anything he could find, a little angel. She was loathe to wake him, but he really shouldn’t sleep the day away. “Aidan, you need to get up. Chores to be done, wee children to look after. You can sleep tonight.” She shook him gently.

“Five more minutes, Deano. ‘M warm.”

“Deano might let you sleep, but I’m not your boyfriend. Up.” Mrs. Turner confiscated the plush toy from her son.

Moments later, Aidan’s eyes blinked open, confused about where his cuddly thing had gotten off to. When he realised his Mum had taken it, he snorted and put the blanket over his head. “You’re cruel.”

“I have to be, to get anywhere with you. Dean says you had my handbag. Come on, get up, show me where you put it. I need to call your father, make sure he hasn’t frozen to death out there.”

“Dad’s had the same job for years and he hasn’t died yet.”

“He knows I’ll kill him if he dies. Handbag. And there’s dirty dishes in the sink and you should probably pop some laundry in. And take the trash out.” Eileen pulled the blanket off her son.

“Mum, are you certain your electric is still out? Have you called the neighbors to check?” Aidan groaned. “You know, your home is nice and tidy.”

“Nice try.” Eileen smirked.

“Come on, the trash isn’t even half-full! And it’s better to do all the dishes at once after dinner.” The Irishman complained, sitting up. “And I didn’t touch your handbag, your handbag is scary. Mary Poppins has nuthin’ on you.”

“Quit being cheeky and get up. Too much to do to lay about.”

“Dean lives here, too.”

Eileen smiled inwardly. Ah, Aidan and his mouth, never thought about what he was saying before he said it. Poor lad had just set himself up for a massive guilt trip. “Really? Your lover, who has been watching the children while you slept and has an injured leg caused by YOUR inability to keep an eye on the children… you really want him doing all the chores as well?” She crossed her arms and tried to look angry.

Aidan stood and rubbed his curly hair. “Fiiiine. I’ll go do dishes, or sumthin’.”

“Bag, first.”

“I didn’t touch it!”

“Really? Dean says he and the children didn’t, and I didn’t, so was it the invisible man wandering about?” Really, it was getting difficult to not laugh at Aidan.

“In this house, that’s possible.” Aidan muttered to himself. His mother didn’t hear. “Right… your bag… uh… bedroom? That’s the last place you saw it.”

“Before you moved it, yes.”

“How come you believe Dean and you don’t believe me?” Aidan scowled as they headed through the hall.

“ ‘No, Mum, I’m not going to do any of those crazy New Zealand sports they do there, I’ll be perfectly safe.’ Then you jumped out of an aeroplane.” Mrs. Turner smirked.

“That was ONE TIME. And I hadn’t planned to do it until THAT DAY.”

Eileen let it drop. Aidan had, in truth, been relatively good as a child. With his penchant for mischief, it could have been much worse. She supposed she should have been grateful that her son was such a terrible liar, he’d really only lied to her intentionally when it came to food and his marks. All of his troubles had come from his spontaneity. She’d heckled him enough.

Aidan searched the room, opening the drawers and checking under the bed. No bag. Inside the empty luggage, behind the door, and under the bed again, just in case. Still no luck. He finally found it in the closet, dangling from a coat hanger. “See, Mum? Safe and sound. You probably put it away when you put the clothes up.” He gave his mother a winning smile and a kiss on the cheek.

 

*********************************

 

That night, dinner was made by Aidan’s mum; for some reason, she refused to allow either one of them to cook, and actually paled drastically when Dean said he would love to make scones. Isaac was taking his bath, complete with a massive amount of bubbles in the tub, Dean was reading some wildlife magazine, and Eileen had finally stopped playing ‘supervisor’ to her son as he cleaned house. Dean was certain their Irish homestead had never looked so good.

Aidan slumped onto the couch next to his lover. “I’m gonna die.”

“A little housecleaning never hurt anyone, but here, die in my arms.” Dean tried not to grin as he wrapped an arm around his lover.

“Says you,” The Irishman tucked his feet under him and laid his head on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re wounded, she’s not making you do chores.”

“At least the laundry is done.”

“Laundry’s done, house is dusted and vacuumed, kitchen is mopped, sheets have been changed. I swear, it was less work pretending to kill Orcs. At least Peter halfway believes in taking breaks.” Aidan sulked.

Dean dropped a kiss on Aidan’s collarbone. “I appreciate it, though. And you looked very nice while doing it, especially when you bent over as you were dusting the tables…” He pulled Aidan’s hand up and kissed the pulse point on his wrist. “It was very… entertaining.”

Abby was in her crib, Isaac was in the bath, and Eileen was in ‘her’ room, talking with Aidan’s father on her mobile. Perhaps they could get a few moments to themselves… Aidan tilted his head up, nudging at Dean a bit. The Kiwi obliged him by dropping a kiss on his Irishman’s neck, shifting so he could wrap both arms around the other man. After a long day of dealing with two children and Aidan’s mother, it was as if a dam broke, and the two met with hungry kisses.

Just as Aidan was getting a hand under Dean’s shirt…

Abigail Pace-Armitage decided she needed to scream through the entire house in a bloodcurdling cry.

“You have GOT to be joking!” Aidan just about leapt off the couch, rushing into their room where the baby’s crib was set up. The infant was sitting in the middle of the crib, wailing her little lungs out while tears streaked down her cheeks. Batman was sitting next to the crib, howling his in sympathy with the child.

When Dean finally reached the room, the Irishman had Abigail out and was rocking her and mumbling bits of random songs. “What happened?”

“I dunno. She’s fine. Her diaper isn’t smelly, she isn’t hurt, she just ate an hour ago.” Aidan frowned, staring down at the little one in his arms. “I can’t figure out why she’s crying. Do babies randomly cry for no reason?”

“Why are you asking me?” Dean wrinkled his nose.

“You speak baby.”

“…is that an insult or a compliment?” The Kiwi teased. “Here, kids like toys… where’s her little doll Richard left?” He glanced around the room. None of the toys they’d left laying about were littering the bed, floor, and everywhere else were in sight. Even that bloody Pegasus. “What did you do with them all?”

“Nuthin’,” Aidan protested. “Why do you people think I keep moving sh… junk? Come on, Abby, nuthin’s wrong, please stop crying…”

“Boys, is everything all right?” Eileen poked her head in. “What have you done to the baby?”

“I’ve got it, Mum. Really.” Aidan protested. “I can handle this.”

His mother sighed and spoke into her mobile “Your son’s causing trouble again. Mind waiting a bit?” She then set down the gadget on the spare chair. “Here, Aidan, let me take her.”

It would be very easy, to just hand the child over and let his Mum handle it. But Aidan was an adult, really, he was. He’d spent the entire day being told by his mother how to clean like he was still a child, and honestly… honestly he wanted to prove he wasn’t. “I’ve got her, Mum. Thank you, but Deano and I have got her.”

Eileen raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and said nothing. At that same moment, Dean discovered the toys neatly put away in the top of the closet. He pulled the Pegasus down, which made the rest of the soft toys fall down onto him, recovered, and hobbled over to present the giant toy to Abigail.

The child calmed down immediately, reaching for the toy.

As Aidan juggled both infant and toy while Dean hovered and kept telling Abby how good she was, and Batman how good HE was for watching the baby, Eileen smiled to herself and retrieved her mobile, walking back out to the hall. “Sorry about that, dear. Everything’s fine, now. And from the looks of it, we’re going to get grandchildren soon.”

 

*****************************

 

“All right, sweet little one. It’s time for sleep. It’s not time to giggle, or jabber, or roll around and make noise.” Aidan smiled down at the infant in her crib. Abigail jabbered back at him. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d listen.” He wiggled a finger at her, which she grasped onto and brought to her mouth. “Hey, no chewing on the fingers!” The Irishman laughed.

“You gonna come to bed, or are you gonna play with the baby all night?” Dean teased, toweling off his wet hair from the shower. He was wearing a long-sleeve pyjama set, bare feet patting along the wood floor as he headed to the bed.

Aidan smirked and left the child. He met Dean at the bed, then gave his Kiwi a kiss. “I’m fucking exhausted. How the hell do people with kids not go insane?”

“Because they love their children?” Dean guessed. They both slipped into the bed, covering themselves with a heavy blanket. Aidan snuggled close and wrapped an arm around Dean. He was asleep within seconds. Dean merely smiled and kissed Aidan on the top of his head. Abby, sensing she wasn’t going to get any more attention that night, slowly settled down in her crib and fell asleep.

Three more days…


	6. Shadows and Spooks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.. nearly a month. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the gap in updates.  
> Please thank my editor, W.D. for not killing me while I danced around this chapter.  
> Of course, she caused some of the wait, challenging me to rewrite several scenes until I was truly happy with them.  
> On a positive note, this chapter is significantly longer than the others. To be honest, I couldn't find a good stopping point.

The next morning brought clear skies, though a call to Aidan’s father verified that electricity still had not been restored to the home of Aidan’s parents. Dean was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee for himself and a cup of tea for Eileen, watching a video his brother had sent him. It was summer in New Zealand, and Dean felt a pang of jealousy – he was missing the barbecue’s and summer walks his family loved.

“You look sad,” The Irishwoman said, glancing at him from over her mug.

Dean gave her a half-shrug. “Winter has me down. If I were home, I’d be having a water pistol fight with my brother and cousins right about now. And then my parents would pretend to scold us and say that we need to ‘set a good example’ for my baby nephew. And then we’d all have grilled food and I’d take Batman for a long walk, let him chase a butterfly or two.”

“You miss your family?”

“Yes. Not just my parents or my brother… I mean, I miss them a lot, but family is a… complicated word for me. Ever since we filmed the Hobbit, ‘family’ has come to mean more than just blood. You’ve got to add Richard and Ian and everyone else to the mix.” Dean gave her a wan smile. “It’s not easy, either. Not only does EVERYONE tell us what to do because we’re the youngest, but then they expect us to show up at a moment’s notice. And we still have lessons with Ian, over the phone. In fact, it’s Tuesday, I think this week we are supposed to be starting to go over family lines and alliances. That’s a research project I don’t even want to think about, it’s going to be messy.” He took another drink of his coffee. “I would rather stick with the storytelling, at least then I don’t have to bloody take notes.”

“Why not just tell them to sod off?” Eileen smirked. Oh, yes, Aidan took after his mother.

Dean contemplated that. It wouldn’t be such a good idea. Not only because they owed the Greeks – the immortality thing was most certainly priceless - but also because they were probably going to need the knowledge and help. They’d been immortal by Athena, and in doing so, she had inadvertently put targets on their back. Would Hera’s faction try again to manipulate them? Kill them? No, telling the Greek Gods to sod off would not be a good idea.

“It’s… It’s hard to explain, but we’re safer if we stay connected. We have a better chance at staying with our loved ones. There’s a lot of turmoil, we need to know who we can trust. The stories are a history, rather embellished upon, but history can still tell us what pitfalls to avoid.” The Kiwi shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Try me,” Eileen dared. “I’m Aidan’s mother. If only you knew what he could get into.” Dean was well aware of what Aidan could get into. After all, it had been Aidan’s curiosity that had led the two of them down this rabbit-hole. Granted, Zeus and the others had a hand in it all, but really, if Aidan hadn’t wanted to find out why Rob was going batshit, none of this would have happened.

Except for the immortal bit. Athena had worked entirely independently of the rest of the Gods when she’d pulled that particular stunt.

“What if… what if I were to say that magic is real?” Dean asked.

“I’d say you’ve spiked that coffee. There’s no such thing as magic.”

“Not even faeries or leprechauns or unicorns?” Dean kept himself from grinning.

“Absolutely not.” Mrs. Turner insisted.

“Even though Ireland’s national animal is the unicorn?” The Kiwi teased.

“Sod off.”

Dean laughed and pulled himself up from the table (his knee was finally starting to feel like it wasn’t trying to murder him, but it still hurt), and headed into his studio. He returned with his digital camera. “What about ghosts?”

“You’re not teaching these flights of fancy to my son, are you?” Eileen looked worried.

“Trust me, I don’t have to.” Dean mumbled to himself. Granted, Aidan was still in denial about everything but the Greek and Norse Gods, but it was a starting point. He turned on the camera and flipped through it, finally finding the photograph he wanted.

The creepy figure in the hall.

“Here, take a look, tell me what you think.” Dean handed the camera over. Mrs. Turner stared at the photo for a moment. “You took this at the castle Aidan told me about, right?”

Dean nodded. “Before I injured myself in the basement.”

“He said that you got hurt kicking down the door of the wine cellar, that it locked on you.” Eileen nodded. Dean kept quiet. “Dean, little love, why did you bring your maid to the castle? It’s not like you needed tidying there.”

Dean bit his lip. “Mrs. Turner… that’s not our maid. We don’t have a maid.” “Of course you do. I saw her putting towels away. I’ll bet she’s the one who moved my handbag. Really, you need to talk to her about boundaries. And her hours are absurd, she was here well after dark. And I’m very disappointed in you two. You are both capable of keeping this house up, it isn’t all that large, and it’s just the two of you and Batman. I know Aidan is lazy, but I thought as the more responsible one, you’d make sure the housework is done.” Eileen frowned at the Kiwi.

“I’m serious. We don’t have a maid. We’ve never had a maid. I mean Richard and Lee teased us about getting one… and Adam… and Stephen… and Jimmy… but it’s because they tease us that Aidan refuses to get one. He’s very prideful.” Dean explained.

Eileen huffed a bit and then pointed at the tiny screen on the camera. “This woman was putting towels away late last night. She had blonde hair tied back in a bun, and was wearing the same bloody dress – very old-fashioned. It was her. Dean, you are adorable, but I don’t appreciate the trick you’re trying to play on me. Using your photography skills to make her all sorts of blurry and frightening pictures will not fool me. I should call your mother and tell her of your pranks.”

By all the Saints and Gods… Aidan got more than just his expressions and looks from his mother. His stubbornness was acquired honestly, that much Dean was sure. There was absolute proof of something that neither Dean nor Aidan could explain, and Eileen was insisting that it was of a maid that she had dreamed up last night!

He was going to go mad by the time Aidan’s mother left, he just knew it.

If he wasn’t already.

There was a ‘thump’ from the hallway, and Aidan wandered in. His wild curls were everywhere, and he was still in his boxer shorts and a shirt that read ‘Keep Calm and Look Sexy’. Dean had bought that for him as a joke. In his arms was a fussing Abigail, who was rubbing her eyes and whining.

“She won’ stop,” Aidan frowned, eyes barely open. “Make her stop. I don’ wanna be ‘wake.”

Eileen laughed and took the child from her son. She patted the baby on the back and took settled the infant into her chair.

“Deano… come back to bed for cuddles…” Aidan whined, tugging at Dean’s hand.

Dean merely let Aidan drag him back to the bedroom for just a few more minutes of sleep. Eileen gave him a wink as he went.

***********************************************

Breakfast was a quiet affair, Aidan’s mother made a delicious spread that her son and Isaac enjoyed greatly, but Dean found himself stirring the food around his plate. He just didn’t feel hungry. His extra toast was yummed up by Aidan, and Isaac took the bacon slices when he thought Dean wasn’t paying attention. Mrs. Turner didn’t seem to be very happy at Dean’s lack of appetite, but let it slide.

The Kiwi pulled his laptop into the living area and started to go through the digital photos from the trip to the castle, mourning that they’d made a darkroom out of the outdoor storage shed instead of using one of the spare rooms for it. He’d have to wait for it to warm up a bit and all the snow to melt to get back out there. Dean wasn’t sure if one could freeze developing fluid, but he really didn’t want to find out.

Aidan’s mother took charge of making sure Isaac did all of his schoolwork, despite the child trying to say that he’d done all his maths. Eileen was actually better at encouraging the child than Dean or Aidan, and kept asking the child different questions to keep him interested in the dull work.

In the meantime, Aidan set up a number of his old action figures and had found a collection of plush toys that Stephen had given them… brightly coloured mostly round-shaped birds. As Dean watched the out of the corner of his eye, Aidan cheerfully taught Abby how to throw the plushies at the ‘Piggies’. Every time she managed to knock them all down, Aidan would cheer, she would giggle and mimic the Irishman, and Aidan would set all the figures back up for another round. Abigail was in heaven. Dean was glad his lover wasn’t using a real slingshot for the game.

Batman was dozing on the rug, Dean had a mug of coffee and all was right with the world. He drowned himself in his photographs, being sure to make back-ups of the back-ups before playing with his laptop’s digital editor a bit. He downloaded the photographs and set to work, upping the contrast on this image, darkening that one, deleting a few that were horrid, and the like. He even turned a few into black-and-white images, which looked even more haunting than the originals had been.

Somewhere along the line, Aidan and Abigail grew tired of throwing birds, and wound up crawling about the living area, Batman woke up and wanted out for a few minutes, and Eileen somehow got Isaac to finish his maths. Lunch was served, sandwiches so Dean could keep working while staring at his computer screen, and the Kiwi only noticed long enough to stuff his face and get back to work.

Dean was contemplating the photo of the ghostly figure from the hallway when Aidan finally sat down next to him.

“What’cha doin’?” Aidan glanced over at the Kiwi’s screen.

Dean toggled with the contrast on the photograph, trying to see if there was anything that could have triggered such a ghostly figure. “Pretending I know what I’m doing.” Dean admitted. “I can’t explain this photo. Your Mum seems to think that I’m playing a trick on her, that it’s our maid.”

“We don’ have a maid,” Aidan frowned. “That’s why we have to clean. I don’t think a maid would put up with us.”

“A maid wouldn’t put up with YOU. She’d see that laundry pile and run.” Dean teased.

“What about the dishes you leave in the sink after your cooking ‘experiments’? I don’t think Graham was doing us a favour when he taught you how to make food… you get weird with it.” Aidan teased back.

“At least it isn’t burnt bits of food on the pan. That’s what my cooking used to be.”

“I remember! That time you tried to make bangers and smash, back when we first met!” The dark-haired actor laughed. “The potatoes were dry and the sausages were black!”

“I’ve improved!” Dean protested.

Aidan laughed. “Yeah, now you just find weird things to put IN the food. Jellybabies do NOT go with tomatoes, just saying. Anyway, why did Mum think we had a maid? I mean, I’m messy, but I’m TRYING to clean up after myself. And Richard would never let us live it down if we did get one.”

“You left the bird toys out,” Dean pointed at the far corner, where the colourful birds were still scattered about.

“That was intentional. Abby and I are going to play Angry Birds again after her nap.” Aidan said nonchalantly as he glanced over at the toys. “So, we’re getting a maid?”

“She said she saw a maid putting towels away in the house late last night,” Dean explained.

Aidan blinked. “She WHAT?”

“Saw a maid putting towels away. The same one in this photograph.” Dean rubbed his temples. “Why would she think she saw this exact woman? WE didn’t even see the maid! Either she’s going mad or we are.”

“Deano… are you trying to say that I drove my Mum mad? Aidan joked. “Oh, you drove me mad, all right. And you’d better be careful, Dean, or Aidan will drive you insane, too.” Eileen smirked from the doorway to the kitchen. “By the way, did you know that you are completely out of sugar?”

Aidan glanced at Dean. “Road trip?”

Dean groaned as he pulled himself up off the couch and headed towards the coat closet. “Y’know, we wouldn’t run out of sugar if your Mum didn’t overload the tea…”

******************************

“How adorable! Oh, you just have the most adorable little cheeks! And the most adorable little nose! Look at you!”

Isaac grinned happily as the shopkeeper, Mrs. Collins, pinched his cheeks and tweaked his nose. She wasn’t exactly elderly, perhaps just a little older than Aidan’s mother, but she was ecstatic that Aidan, Dean, and little Isaac had come to see her in ‘this horrid weather’.

“Thank you, nice lady.” Isaac gave a little bow. “This is a very nice shop, here.”

“Oh, and what manners! Young Mister Turner, why didn’t you and Mister O’Gorman tell me you were adopting?” Dean seemed to be very interested in the types of sugars the shop had in stock, leaving poor Aidan to deal with Mrs. Collins.

Aidan, on the other hand, glared at the child with them. Where the hell had he been hiding those manners? “Y’know, I don’t remember you acting well-behaved at the house...” Wait a second, had she said ‘adopting’? “Mrs. Collins, he’s not mine. And Dean and I aren’t a couple.” It was hard enough, keeping the tabloids quiet. It was best not to tell the entire town he was with a bloke – you never knew who would sell the bloody information to the paparazzi.

The woman gave him cheeky smile. “You’re not fooling anybody; you do realize that, don’t you? You two are such a lovely couple…” She sighed. “So, when do the papers go through?”

“No, really, he isn’t ours. He belongs to a friend of ours.” Aidan protested.

Mrs. Collins leaned down to Isaac and whispered “He’s in denial.”

“Yes, he is. It’s okay, though.” Isaac winked at her and grinned. “They take good care of me. We even went to a haunted castle!”

“That must have been quite the adventure!” She smiled at him. “Tell me all about it!” While Isaac entertained the shopkeeper, Aidan located some over the counter pain meds for Dean and the basil and tomatoes Eileen had asked for after hearing from Isaac how ‘awesome’ Lee’s spaghetti was.

And a microwavable casserole… just in case. Dean met him at the counter, cheerfully placing the sugar on it while chatting with Mrs. Collins about his knee. Aidan couldn’t help but notice that there was a handful of sweets on the counter as well… and they weren’t the prepackaged sort.

“Isaac, your Daddy said you shouldn’t have candy.” Aidan sighed. Lee was going to kill them when he picked the children up, he just knew it.

“Oh, you stop worrying so much! A few sweets won’t hurt him, will it, lad?” Mrs. Collins gave Isaac a genuine smile.

“I dunno… my Daddy said I’m s’posed to eat healthy...” Isaac looked down at the ground, pouting.

“Oh, pish-tosh! What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The sweets are from me, anyway. Can’t refuse a gift from a lady, that’s not polite, is it?” Mrs. Collins winked at the child.

Isaac gave the woman a small smile. “I s’pose it wouldn’t be polite to refuse…”

Dean paid for everything, and Aidan wound up carrying it home. None of the snow had melted, despite the sunshine, and Aidan’s car was still trapped in the snowbank. This meant a walk of two or three kilometers from the shop back to the house, and Dean’s knee was protesting despite the crutch. This hadn’t been one of his better ideas.

“So, you cheeky little thing, is it just me, or did you play Mrs. Collins?” Dean asked Isaac, trying to get his mind off his knee.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isaac said innocently as he popped another sweet into his mouth. “Mrs. Collins is a nice lady.”

“You were POLITE to her,” Aidan protested. “You’re never polite!”

“I am when sweets are involved,” the child smirked up at the adults. “I like candy.”

Dean laughed. “You egg! You turn on the charm to get what you want!” He teased, leaning heavily on the crutch. “Playing coy and all!”

Isaac stuck his tongue out at the actor. “I’ve been around for thousands of years. After a while, you learn how to get grown-ups to give you treats. It doesn’t work on Daddy Richard ‘cause he’s been around a while, too. And it doesn’t work on you two or Daddy Lee because Zeus told you. I gotta stay in practise, you know. It’s HARD, being a kid. You’re kinda at the mercy of the grown-ups around you.”

“So you con treats out of shopkeepers?” Dean shook his head. “You’re just a little sociopath, you know that?”

“ALL children are sociopaths. It’s a survival trait.” Isaac argued. “And all I got was candy…”

“Little bugger,” Aidan rubbed the child’s hair through his cap. “Don’t pull that on my Mum, she’ll try to keep you.”

Isaac scowled. “Not a chance. She makes me do my lessons.”

The walk back to the house was slow, Dean carefully walking (why had he thought this was a good idea?), while Aidan stayed by his side. Isaac ran ahead, investigated things, threw snowballs at another child who was outside playing, and occasionally, whenever he was fairly far ahead, he’d see what he could dig up. Literally. Not only did he have a pocketful of sweets when they finally arrived home, he also had a pocketful of raw precious stones.

“We’re back!” Aidan called out as soon as they opened the front door. He made sure to knock his boots off (he really didn’t want to have to mop the entry) before setting them on a towel they’d laid out before they’d gone on this excursion. Dean was next, limping his way through and trying to not track snow into the house. Isaac gave the snow outside a pitiable look, then turned back towards the house and slowly walked to the door. Aidan finally sighed. “Oh, go play. Take Batman. Be inside before sunset, understand?”

Isaac let out a cry of joy. “Batman, come on!”

The dog somehow heard his name from wherever he was inside and met the child at the door, tail wagging and tongue lolling about. Isaac made sure that Aidan and Dean had all of his stones he’d ‘found’ before he bounded off into the yard.

“Don’t go past the fence, and no talking to strangers!” Dean called out.

“I knoooooow!” Isaac sounded annoyed as he shouted the words back. Batman barked.

The actors laughed as Aidan helped Dean settle on the couch, covering his lover in a warm blanket, and telling him to rest. The trek had not been good for the Kiwi. Aidan retrieved pillows and made sure his Dean was comfortable, including elevating the knee slightly, then made him a mug of hot chocolate and two of the meds they’d just bought.

“You spoil me,” Dean mumbled, sinking into the warm blanket and pillows as he sipped his chocolate.

Aidan dropped a sweet kiss to Dean’s lips. “You’ve done the same for me. Anything else you want?”

“Just a rest,” Dean smiled up at him. He pulled Aidan close for another kiss before letting himself succumb to his body’s demands that he sleep.

The Irishman made himself a cup of coffee and put the sugar away, then realised something was very wrong… it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Dean may have been sleeping and Isaac and Batman were outside, and Abby only talked in gibberish or made noise when she was unhappy or ‘discovering’ things, but Aidan knew perfectly well that his mother was almost incapable of being quiet.

This did not bode well.

Cautiously, Aidan made his way through the house. Past Dean on the sofa, and into the hallway. Their room was empty, unmade bed and overfilled laundry basket were the only issues there. Dean’s studio was devoid of any life, all the art supplies carefully put away. Isaac’s room held another untidy bed, though at least he had put his toys away, for once.

The last place to check was the spare bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and there was light coming from the crack. Slowly, Aidan pushed the door open with one finger, peeking into the room. “Mum?”

Eileen startled from where she’d been pacing the room. “Aidan, love, you’re back already?”

“It’s been over an hour, Mum. Dean’s not walking well. He’s gonna get some sleep. What’s up?” The Irishman explained. Eileen had her mobile in hand, and had been very focused on whatever she’d been talking about. Abigail was on the bed, flopped into the most strange position she could manage and asleep. How did kids DO that? “Everything okay? Is that Dad?”

“Ah… yes. Your father’s fine, just giving me an update on the weather situation. More snow tonight, apparently.” Eileen glanced out the window. “Not going to be fun.”

Aidan wrinkled his nose. More snow. Spectacular. It was as if the weather wanted him to permanently move to New Zealand, or something. New Zealand… right now it would be tropical and hot… he’d be wearing shorts and a light shirt, sitting on the porch with Dean and Batman and a bottle of Guinness in his hand. That sounded like paradise.

Stupid snow.

“Hey, can I talk to Dad?” Aidan reached for the phone. His father hadn’t phoned him at all since the storm had started; too busy making sure the rest of Ireland had electricity. The man was dedicated to his work.

“Let me ask,” Eileen brought her mobile back up. “Pat? Yes, Pat, love, Aidan wants to know if you’re too busy to talk. Oh, I see. I’ll tell him. You be safe out there on those… ahm… dangerous roads.” She quickly ended the call and set the device down. “He had to go back to work; he was only on a break to eat. He’ll call you later, all right?”

“He’s not in a mood, is he?” Aidan frowned. Normally his father jumped at the opportunity to be nosy about the going-ons of his life. His old man was overworking himself again. It made Aidan proud… and worried.

“You know your father,” Eileen shrugged nonchalantly. “Why don’t I make you some tea to warm you up?”

**************************************************

Eileen’s prediction of more snow became a reality, and as soon as the sun went down, enormous flakes began falling again.

Isaac had taken his bath and was dressed in warm pyjamas, and Abby was bundled up in her Sesame Street onesie and put to bed. Eileen had come up with the idea of ‘camping out’ in the living room, which Aidan protested until his mother gave him a ‘look’ and told him that it would be fun.

And because the actors were gentlemen, Eileen got the couch.

Though Aidan had repeatedly complained about it.

Isaac had built a ‘tent’ with some spare blankets and the dining chairs, refusing help from any of the grown-ups, and was poking his head out of his sanctuary just enough to play Cluedo with the rest of them. The coffee table had been moved off to the side, and Aidan and Dean were on the floor in Dean’s sleeping bags, the game board between the three boys. Aidan refused to let his mother play.

Not that she cared too much; Mrs. Turner was busily texting away on her phone.

“I’ll bet it was Professor Plum,” Isaac mused, looking at his cards.

“You’re not supposed to say that out loud,” Dean reminded the child. “It’s a secret, remember? You have to keep what you think a secret until you know all of the answers.”

“I knew that,” Isaac looked sheepish. “Besides, I might be lying, to throw you off.”

“You really think you’re that clever?” Aidan laughed.

“I might be. I got free candy.”

“Only a pocketful. I’ll think you’re that clever when you can spell ‘elephant’ properly,” The Irishman teased.

“E-L-A-F-A-N-T.” Isaac recited.

“Yeah, keep working on it.” Dean reached over and tweaked the child’s nose. “You’ll get it eventually.”

“… I can spell it in Greek…” Isaac sulked, rubbing his nose. He reached for his token, trying to move it into the dining room. “AND Latin. Bet you can’t.”

There was a loud ‘thump’ from outside, not like thunder, but rather like something falling on the snow outside. The lights flickered once, then twice, and went out.

And the house fell into darkness.

Everyone sat in silence for a few moments, nobody moving. Finally, Isaac whispered “What happened?”

"Probably blew a fuse, or something. It happens. Lemme get a torch and I’ll have it fixed in less than a minute, I promise. I learned a few tricks from Dad.” In the low light of Eileen’s mobile, Aidan managed to pull himself up and start towards the kitchen, where they kept the torches. At least, he was trying to, until he came across something he didn’t expect. “Motherfucking Christ!”

“That’s the coffee table,” Dean sighed. “You okay?”

“I’m FINE.” Aidan snapped. “Shite, that HURT! Bloody table!” There was a thump as Aidan kicked at the table, which only resulted in his foot being in pain, too. It wasn't smart to kick a table without wearing shoes.

“Is that part fixing the fuse?” Isaac seemingly asked innocently. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d say the child was picking up Richard’s sense of humour.

“Aidan…” Eileen said in a warning tone. “We’ve talked about your language before.”

“It doesn’t count it if slam my leg on hard surfaces,” the Irishman protested. “Loan me your mobile so I can see.” His mother graciously gave the only light source to her son, and he managed to make it to the kitchen without further incident and located the torches under the sink. “Lucky Dean’s an emergency nut…” Aidan picked up his prize and wandered back.

Once safely back at his sleeping bag, Aidan returned the mobile and handed out the torches.

One problem, though.

Only one of them would turn on, and that one was very, very dim.

“When was the last time we changed the batteries?” Dean frowned, staring into the dark glass of his torch.

“Uhm… I dunno. When we played lightsaber with them?” Aidan shook his torch, the only working one, trying to see if that would help. It didn’t. In fact, the light wavered a few times. This torch was in its death throes.

“That was… months ago… when I made you sit through a Star Wars marathon.” Dean said.

“Don’t batteries stay good for ages if you don’t use them?” Aidan made a face at his torch.

Just as Dean was about to tell him that no, batteries didn’t last forever, especially with the way they’d been playing around, something slammed into the window nearby. Hard. The noise reverberated through the house, and Abby woke from her slumber with a cry.

“What was that?” Dean glanced at the window.

“A bird?” Aidan whispered.

“Too heavy…” Dean shook his head.

“I’ll get the baby,” Eileen volunteered. She pulled herself off the sofa and used her mobile to make her way through the hall to the bedroom. Abigail’s wails ceased shortly after.

Whatever the noise was, the lads decided that it wasn’t a priority, finding batteries was. Aidan took his pitiful torch and returned to the kitchen to dig through a drawer for the little tubes of energy, this time WITHOUT hitting his leg on the table.

The wind picked up outside, howling at the windows and doors of the home. Isaac pulled his blanket off the chairs and wrapped it around him. “I’m cold.”

Right, the heat had gone out, too. Granted, there was no way it had gotten THAT cold THAT quickly, but children did like drama. So did Aidan. “Here, we’ll build a fire.” Dean hobbled over to the fireplace, made Batman move from his sleeping spot, and tried to locate the matches. Richard had built a fire when he’d dropped off the children, so the matches had to be somewhere nearby…

Crap, RICHARD had built the fire. Richard didn’t need matches.

Bloody annoying Gods!

“Aid! Can you get the matches out of the kit under the sink? Should be with the rest of the emergency things.” Dean called out. “It’s going to get very cold in here, otherwise.”

Just as Aidan was shouting something back, the window went ‘thump!’ again!

Dean couldn’t help but jump a bit.

Isaac whimpered and made his way next to Dean, then latched onto the Kiwi’s shirt, still wrapped up in his blanket. He was watching the window intently.

The Kiwi knelt down (ouch) next to the boy. “Hey, what’s so scary? You’re Hades, God of the Underworld. Remember, there was Daisy and Micah at the castle, you weren’t scared of them.” He said soothingly, rubbing the child’s hair. “Hades isn’t scared of anything. And he’s most certainly not scared of a bit of wind that’s making the windows rattle.”

“Daisy and Micah were good ghosts. There are bad ones. And monsters.” Isaac whispered. “And that wasn’t wind.”

“Of course it was. What else would be out there?” Dean tried to comfort the little God. “You’re Hades, you would see if something bad was out there, right?”

“Maybe…” Isaac didn’t let go of Dean. “Can you get the monster spray, just in case?”

Wandering through the house without a light was not the best idea. Especially not with his throbbing knee. “We’ll ask Aidan as soon as he comes back, all right?” Dean promised. Isaac nodded, hard to see in the dim light, and clung to the Kiwi tighter.

The Irishman wasn’t long in returning, carefully holding a lit candle with the bottom wrapped in a bit of paper. It wasn’t much light, but at least it was something. “Found the matches. No batteries."

“When did we buy candles?"

“When I was hoping for a romantic snow-in,” Aidan sighed. “At least I found a use for ‘em. Here, I got spares.” He handed one to Dean and lit it, making sure to wrap the bottom of the candle to keep his Kiwi from getting burned. Isaac wanted to hold one, too, but both actors shut that down quickly. That’s all they needed: an eight-year-old God that’s scared of monsters and holding fire. Nope. Aidan retrieved the ‘monster spray’ from Isaac’s room, and handed it to the child so he could use it whenever he wanted. As long as he didn’t spray it at the candles. Isaac clutched the can like a lifeline.

Dean took some newspaper (Aidan loved newspapers and tended to forget to put them in the bin after reading) and used it and some spare wood they’d brought in to build the fire. As the logs caught fire, Dean leaned back on his elbows, and Aidan sat down next to him. Batman put his head on his owner’s stomach, and Isaac settled himself in between the two actors.

And something outside screamed.

“Euryale…” Isaac whispered.

“This is silly,” Aidan sighed and pulled himself up. He marched over to the door and yanked it open.

The wind howled and snow blew in. Aidan poked his head out, shivering, and looked around. There was nothing.

No animals outside, no birds, nothing. The only things Aidan could see were a mess of tracks from when Isaac had been playing earlier and a 4-wheel drive car down the street that hadn’t been there before – probably someone else who’d lost power and was kipping at a friend or relative’s. Whoever it was, they were going to lose their battery, since they’d left the interior light on.

“What was it?” Dean asked.

“I dunno. I don’t see anything.”

“I TOLD you, it’s Euryale.” Isaac wrapped the blanket even tighter around himself. “It’s one of the Gorgons. She’s going to eat us.”

“It’s probably an owl,” Aidan closed the door.

“I like owls. That’s not a owl.” The child insisted.

“Isaac… is there anything invisible outside?” Dean asked, trying to sound as not-nervous as he could. Hopefully it was good enough to fool the child.

The God of the Underworld stared at Dean as if he’d grown an extra head. “There’s a wall, I can’t see outside. I’m not Superman.”

“Stop being cheeky,” Aidan scolded, more automatically than out of annoyance. Secretly, he was very glad the child couldn’t see through walls… that would have been embarrassing, at the very least.

“I’m not cheeky. And I’m not scared.” Isaac protested.

Just then, a streak of light appeared in the kitchen, followed by a cacophony of noise, like metal hitting the tiles. The three lads moved carefully to investigate, and found the silverware spread across the floor, as if something had pulled the drawer out and thrown it down. As Aidan bent to pick up the sharp knives, something white appeared in the window… white with gaping holes where eyes and a mouth would go. There was another ‘bang’ on the window, and the figure was gone.

Isaac didn’t whimper. He was a strong Greek God, not a piddly little mortal and he certainly didn’t whimper. At least, that was what he was going to say once it was all said and done. He tugged Dean’s shirt and said. “Carry me?”

“I can’t, my knee, and the candle.” Dean looked regretful at that. “Here, hold my hand tight.” Isaac gripped the man’s hand and squeezed with all his might.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Aidan gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. His mother hadn’t returned with the baby, yet, and he was a bit worried. Had she fallen in the darkness? Or was it that Abby just needed her nappy changed? “Hey, Mum? Did’ja get lost?”

The Irishman carefully rounded the corner, protecting his little candle as he walked. In his bedroom, where Abby had been sleeping was…

Nobody.

Neither Abigail, nor Eileen were in the room.

Instead, sitting on his bed, was a note. Written in spidery script and with ink blots all over the page, it read ‘They are ours. You think you know all about those creatures you consort with… you know nothing!’

The Irishman swallowed. “Mum! Mum, where are you!” He tossed the note back down and searched Isaac’s room and the spare bedroom. Nobody there. The last place was Dean’s studio.

In the darkness, the studio looked even more sparse than usual. Normally Dean had the place filled with his lights, to be able to better see his work as he painted. As Aidan glanced around, shadows from his candle danced on the walls. A vaguely human shape in the middle of the room made the brunette jump until he realised that it was just Dean’s easel, covered in a cloth. “Christ, Aidan, stop being an idiot.”

The studio’s windows rattled, and a withered and bloody hand appeared in the window just as a flash of light nearly blinded the actor. Aidan’s heart nearly stopped. “It’s your imagination. Get over it.” He told himself before turning to head out.

That’s when he saw her.

A woman stood in the doorway, long black dress and her hair pinned back. He couldn’t see her face, the flame from the candle caused the shadows to move too much. She didn’t move, just stood there, as if waiting for something to happen.

“Mum?”

Aidan started forward, reaching out to the figure. He caught his foot on a tarp on the floor, and glanced down for half a second to free himself.

When he looked up again, the figure was gone.

The actor shook his head and rubbed at his temple. This night was getting to him, it had to be. He stumbled out of the studio and back to his bedroom, where he snatched up the note before heading back to his lover.

When Aidan returned to the living area, his hands were shaking. “Deano?” He handed the note over. “I can’t find Mum or the baby. There was this, on the bed.”

Dean read it over, feeling a pit in his stomach. “You don’t think…”

Aidan bit his lip. “Aphrodite? Think she’s doing all this?”

“Aphrodite is not an Underworld God. She can’t get monsters and bad ghosts to come out.” Isaac said quietly, gripping Dean’s hand with nearly bone-breaking strength. Eight-year-olds shouldn’t be that strong.

The lights flashed on again, followed by a laugh like the Joker’s that echoed through the house. Batman whined and hid behind Dean. Barely seconds later, the lights went back out, just as a figure rushed by the windows. The glass shuddered again, making all the lads jump.

“The storm. It’s the storm, it has to be. And our imaginations. We’re all creative people; we’ve got very vivid imaginations.” Dean said, trying not to look or sound frightened. “And you probably just missed your Mum. She’s like you, she doesn’t sit still. Come on, let’s go look.” Anything to keep his mind off the frightful noises. He started to hobble out of the kitchen, but was stopped by a very strong little God who had rooted himself to the spot. “Isaac?”

“I don’ wanna,” Isaac said quietly. “Can we just stay by the fire?” He had one hand wrapped in Dean’s shirt and one hand firmly buried in Batman’s fur. “Daddy Richard says the fire makes him calm, let’s just go back there.”

“It’s better if we stay together,” Dean tried to explain. Isaac’s eyes darted to the kitchen doorway and back. The Kiwi sighed. “Tell you what, if you be good and keep Batman with you, you can stay by the fire while we look around. Five minutes, tops.”

“Five minutes,” Isaac nodded. He gulped, trying to look brave so the adults could go search. The actors left the child in the living area with Batman as a guard. In their bedroom, Dean noticed that Abby’s favoured plaything – her stuffed Pegasus – was missing. Long shadows flickered in the candlelight as the two of them inspected the house. More wails were heard from outside, howling sounds that Aidan kept telling himself was caused by the wind.

Just as they were checking the guest bath, there was a ‘bang’ from the main living areas. Dean and Aidan nearly fell over each other, making their way back to the child and dog they’d left behind.

The living area was empty, the fire cheerfully cracking in the silent room. “Where’d he go?” Aidan looked around the room, checking under the tables and anywhere else Isaac could hide. No sign of the boy or the pup.

“Think he got scared?” Dean frowned as Aidan searched.

“He’d come running to us,” Aidan wandered into the kitchen with his candle, just in case. Empty.

“Unless he thought he could handle it,” Dean suggested.

“He’s EIGHT!”

“He’s also the God of the Underworld.”

“Who needs monster spray in order to fend off scary things,” the Irishman finished. “He’s still a kid…” He stepped over and picked up an item on the coffee table. “And he left the monster spray.”

Aidan frowned at the aerosol and tested it, and ocean scented air came spewing out. It wasn’t empty… “This is ridiculous. I reckon he’s just playing a trick on us. He’s turned himself and Batman invisible and he’s sitting on the couch and laughing at us.”

“Then why is his blanket gone? And I’m pretty sure he can’t turn other things-“ Dean was interrupted by an evil cackle coming from the kitchen. The door to the bathroom they’d just checked out slammed shut, and a grotesque face appeared in the window – just long enough for the two lads to get a look at the red eyes, stringy black hair, and nearly skeletal hand that pressed against the glass.

Aidan jumped so badly he fell over the coffee table.

Dean’s reflexes went into motion, reaching out to Aidan as he hit the floor. Which meant he dropped his crutch and nearly wound up on the ground, himself. Still, he kept one eye on Aidan and one eye on his surroundings… just in case.

As the Irishman picked himself back up, waving Dean off when the Kiwi gave him a worried glance, Aidan’s temper decided that enough was enough. “This is fucking absurd! Isaac is messing with us and I am DONE. I’m gonna kill that kid! I’ll bet he’s under his fucking bed, or something!” The brunette stormed off, back down the hall, taking his candle with him. He was going to put an end to this ridiculousness.

But Isaac wasn’t under the bed.

A frantic search around the house, and Aidan shouting “Treats! Snacktime! Peanut butter!” in an attempt to get Batman to come running resulted in nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a sound, not a peep. The closest he got was his imagination making him see that strange woman in a mirror, but after rubbing his eyes, the figure vanished. Bloody overactive imagination.

“Dean, I can’t find him. Maybe he’ll come out for you.” Aidan growled out as he returned to the living room. “I’m gonna kill that kid.” He paused, looking around. The fire was still crackling, the monster spray was still where Aidan had set it… but Dean’s candle sat next to the spray, no longer lit.

And Dean was nowhere in sight.

The Irishman felt his stomach sink. His Deano was in no condition to be wandering around… their little trip to the shop had already caused his knee to swell up – Dean had tried to hide it, but Aidan wasn’t as easily fooled as everyone believed. True ignorance was one thing, feigning ignorance was another, and he excelled at the latter.

Deano couldn’t have gone far. His favourite green coat was still hanging on the coat rack, and his knee meant that he wouldn’t be wandering around. Especially without a candle in this dark home. As Aidan went to check the kitchen, the lights flickered again on and off again, and there was the distinct sound of a man screaming from outside.

Neither of which helped the Irishman’s stomach settle at all.

Dean wasn’t in the kitchen, and the only other place he could have been hiding was the closet where they kept (and tried to forget about) the vacuum cleaner. Not hiding in there.

“All right, think seriously about this. You checked the whole house, he’s not in here. His coat’s on the rack, so he’s not outside. Or if he is, he’s going to freeze to death. Okay, bad brain, stop thinking about that!” Aidan rapped his forehead with his knuckles. Bloody stupid brain, giving him mental pictures of Dean freezing to death.

The scream came from outside again, Dean’s voice, Aidan was sure of it. Without thinking, the brunette threw the door open and wandered out into the snow, coat still hanging on the rack by the door and no shoes on. “Dean? Dean, are you all right?” Well, that was stupid to ask. Of course Dean wasn’t all right, he was screaming!

Perhaps he should have listened to Isaac when the child had been talking about monsters.

Aidan shivered in the cold, wrapping his arms around himself. The snow was falling quickly, now, and it was hard to see through the flakes. He could barely see the footprints Isaac had made while playing earlier, but no sign of Dean, the dog, or the child.

The outside lights flickered, and Aidan started to feel very silly, running out in the snow. Dean was the sensible one; he wouldn’t have gone out into this weather alone without a coat. Unless… Isaac and Batman had been in danger.

“Dean! Isaac! Batman! Mum, are you out here?” Aidan called out, pacing up and down the walk. This really wasn’t his brightest idea. In fact, he was feeling downright panicky. He was putside in the snow, scared out of his wits, very much missing his family, and feeling very dim-witted.

And then, an enormous figure rose out of the darkness outside… and started towards him.

Cloaked in shadows, the looming figure easily made its way towards the Irishman through the snow. Whatever it was, it was big, big enough to pick Aidan up and cart him off. And it didn’t move… quite right. It seemed to be completely unencumbered by the snow, marching forward with intent. Something about it felt quite threatening, and it looked like it barely had to blink in order to tear the young Immortal apart. The face was dark, and Aidan was unable to tell what the creature looked like with all the snow coming down.

“Stay… you stay back! I’m a God, and I don’t take kindly to threats!” Aidan shouted out as he started to back away. “You can just piss off right now, and maybe I’ll let you live!” He glanced back at the house, where the light from the fireplace flickered… and a shadow stood by the window.

The Irishman panicked, fight or flight setting in… and in the freezing snow, his body decided on flight. He stumbled away from the figure outside, towards the house, tripping over and landing in a snow bank. He barely had enough time to pick himself up and get away before the looming creature reached him. He made his way, covered in snow, to the door and slammed it shut, bolting it securely. The figure that had been chasing him pounded on the door and shouted at him.

Still, the Irishman knew he wasn’t far enough. He turned to run somewhere… ANYWHERE… and something like a thick spider’s-web descended on him, covering his face.

“You… you won’t get me alive! I’ll fight you! I’ve got more power in my pinky finger than all of you!” Aidan shouted, trying (and failing) to keep the panic out of his voice.

And whatever had trapped him laughed.

Not the evil laugh he’d heard before, but a warm, genuine laugh that brought back memories of the first time he’d fallen while ice-skating, or when he’d been rehearsing a dance and had torn the seat of his trousers. “Idiot child, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t freeze to death. No coat, only your slippers, I thought I taught you more common sense than that!”

That sounded like his mum.

He pulled the spider’s-web off his face, only to discover that it was a crochet blanket – one he didn’t recognise, but a blanket nonetheless. Eileen Turner was standing there, a smile on her face as she reached up and tried to brush the snowflakes out of her son’s hair. “I thought… I thought you were hurt!”

That brought another laugh from his mother, and Aidan realised that they weren’t alone. Dean was sitting on the couch, an ace bandage now wrapped around his knee. James Nesbitt stood off to the side, cuddling little Abigail and trying to get her to play with a rattle. Isaac was sitting in front of the fire with Batman, hugging a black plush toy that was nearly as big as the dog. Around the room were others, one man holding a camera that was pointed directly at him, a woman with a microphone, and two more that were going through a bag of crisps they’d found in the cupboard. The lights were back on, and someone had piled a bunch of creepy props on the coffee table. Aidan recognized a white and black mask and a puppet with red eyes.

Behind him, the door shook again. “Oh, bloody hell. Let Graham in before he freezes to death out there!” James shouted, sounding annoyed.

The only words the Irishman could come up with were “You sodding bastards.”

***********************************************

“It wasn’t funny,” Aidan complained as he dutifully drank the tea that had been shoved at him.

“It was until you ran outside like an idiot,” Dean snickered. “I should have known it would be my voice that would break you.”

“Sod off.”

Dean laughed harder and dropped a kiss on Aidan's cheek. Aidan scowled and rubbed it off.

James, for his part, had eventually stopped laughing long enough to produce some ‘Chinese take-away he’d picked up on the way over’ – enough for everyone, including the crew of four Graham and James had managed to come up with. Everyone had happily dug in, taking up seats in the Turner/O’Gorman living room.

Aidan was safely sitting on the couch, a blanket (the one that he didn’t own ten minutes ago) had been thrown over his shoulders and his mother was fussing at him to “Finish the damn tea before you get hypothermia.”

Aidan’s mother had a strange notion of how to cure hypothermia.

Aidan was not amused.

“It was just a prank, no worse than what you did to Orlando.” Graham pointed out.

“He’s got a point,” Dean nodded.

“I’m not speaking to you,” Aidan scowled at his boyfriend.

“Hey, I had nothing to do with the whole thing. I was just as terrified as you were! The camera man saw my knee give out, and Graham was kind enough to take pity on me. It’s not my fault!”

“You were out in the car while I thought you were hurt or dead or something! And then your voice… and then you all snuck BACK into the house while I was freezing out there!”

“It was just a joke! They pulled it on me, too. And your mother helped plan it.” Dean sighed.

James reappeared from the hallway, toting yet another blanket Aidan had never seen before. “Found this one in the closet. Here, bundle up some more.”

“Lemme alone. You’re just trying to get on my mother’s good side.” Aidan shoved the blanket away. “You’re an arse for coming up with this.”

Isaac popped a pot sticker into his mouth. “I don’t think he’s an arse. He brought me a Cerberus plush toy!” Without wiping his hands first, the child held the black plush toy’s heads up. “Look, it’s ENORMOUS!”

“You’re just as bad as Deano! Bribed by toys, you and Batman are impossible!” Aidan frowned at the child, then at the dog who was happily chewing on a rubber chicken.

“Eat your dinner,” Eileen said, trying not to sound amused.

“And you! You were part of this!” The Irishman blatantly ignored his mother’s order.

“Ah, now you respect your mother. James sweet-talked her into it.” Graham scolded. “If ye hadn’t gone and left her all alone, she wouldn’t have had to deal with us when we stopped by with the little one’s new clothes and toys earlier today.”

“How much did you pay them?” Aidan wrinkled his nose at the crew - an electrician, a sound specialist (she had fussed when they’d called her a ‘sound guy’), a camera man, and a puppeteer. It was disturbing, how fast Graham and James two could call in favours, especially in this weather.

“Never you mind,” Eileen frowned and tugged at her son’s ear. “That was rude.”

“I fucking hate all of you,” Aidan muttered before sipping his tea. “Making me think the house is haunted.”

“But it is haunted!” Isaac protested.

“Yes, of course,” Dean smiled at the child. “We’ll be sure to monster-spray your room before you go to bed.”

Isaac looked confused. “Why would you want the ghost to go away?”

“There’s no such things as ghosts,” Eileen said patiently. “I’ll have no more of those faerie stories, thank you very much.”

Graham and James exchanged glances. James suppressed a laugh.

After dinner, the crew left, the camera man promising a copy of the film as soon as he got it edited down to a watchable length. Six cameras running for twenty minutes was a great deal of footage for just a prank. Especially since they planned to send it out to ‘the rest of the family’, as the camera man put it.

Shite, that was how James and Graham had called in favours so quickly… Aidan was willing to bet that the crew was made up of Greek Gods with local homes.

It still wasn’t funny.

Isaac had fallen asleep in his tent, covered by an Iron Man blanket and cuddling with Batman and his new plush toy. Graham had insisted on watching the old version of ‘Wrath of the Titans’, telling the lads that they needed to study the classics more. Aidan calmed his anger enough to assist Dean in making fun of the so-called ‘special effects’ – at least, until Graham told them to ‘shut yer mouth and pay attention to the story’.

Eileen retreated to her bedroom with Abigail, presumably to tell her husband all about the prank she’d helped play on their son. It would give Pat Turner something to laugh about until the storm stopped.

True to form, Aidan had drifted off while watching the film, and had slowly curled up with Dean on the sofa, tucked under the warm blankets James had conjured. Dean was trying, and failing, to blink the sleep away and stay awake long enough to finish the film, but a combination of excitement, pain meds, and a full stomach were a hard thing to battle. His eyes slowly fell shut.

So when Richard and Lee rang, it was Graham that answered.

“They’re all fine. James and I are watching them.” Graham assured the Englishman after saying the usual ‘helloes’. “Our lads got into a spot of trouble today, but it’s all smoothed over.”

Richard sounded relieved. “That’s good. They’re still just children.”

“Well, they’ve done an excellent job with the little ones. Granted, they’ve had some help, but your children are safe, I promise. From what I heard, Isaac’s even finished all his schoolwork. And they’re trying to eat healthy.” Graham explained quietly. “And the only fire they’ve had was contained by the fireplace. The babies are safe, and both the lads are safe.”

“I wasn’t worried about Dean and Aidan,” Richard protested. Lee, in the background, gave a snort of laughter. “I wasn’t!”

“Then why were you worried last night about if they’d remembered to lock all the doors?” Lee countered. “And you kept wondering if Dean’s torn a ligament in his knee.” He sounded more amused than annoyed.

“All right, stop arguing. Lee’s right, you know.” Graham laughed. “Here, give me… three seconds… I think Abby would like to hear you.” He handed the phone over to James, who had the little girl in his lap. She’d gotten a hearty nap earlier, and was very much awake and interested in the film.

James held the phone up to Abby’s ear. “You can talk now,” he said.

Abigail’s face broke out in a smile of pure delight as her fathers talked to her over the phone, telling her they missed her and what a good girl she’d been so far. She jabbered back, as if telling them of her adventures.

“Little princess, you be good for Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Graham,” Lee said through the phone. “We’ll see you in two days. Can you count for Daddy? One… two! Just two days!”

Abby had no idea what ‘two’ was… but she knew her daddies loved her.


	7. Babies don't keep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The snow-in is starting to get to the lads, and keeping everyone busy is becoming harder and harder. Add to that a mother having issues with her little boy leaving and heading all over the globe, a bored child, and someone who wants the house 'tidy' - well, it gets interesting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not dead yet!!!!!!!!
> 
> My apologies for taking so long with this chapter. Real life is not fun, sometimes, and neither is being in hospital.
> 
> W.D. has been very patient (though still nagging) with me, and I thank her for it.
> 
> I am sorry this chapter is so short, and lacking in the adventure/scary bits. The next one should be longer and more exciting.
> 
> This hasn't gone through the third edit, because I wanted to get it out as soon as I could. I will likely make some adjustments after I post, but if you catch any errors, please let me know.

“One…two…three…one…two…three… Isaac, watch your footing! That’s the most important part!” Aidan scolded. “Toes pointed forward, and keep your back straight! A gentleman doesn’t slouch!”

“YOU slouch,” Isaac pointed out.

“Only when I’m relaxing. Not while dancing.” Aidan didn’t miss a single beat, enjoying the flow of an old Irish song. “Head up, stop looking at your feet.”

The young God glared at his tutor. “How am I s’posed to know if my feet are right if I don’t look?”

From the sofa, Eileen Turner stifled a giggle. She’d heard all these arguments before… and now her son was getting a taste of his own medicine.

“You’ve got to feel it,” Aidan explained to the child. “Be aware of what your body is doing. Feel the music in your blood, move with it. Come on, One…two…three…”

Isaac groaned. “This is stupid, what am I gonna use the waltz for?”

“All gentlemen should learn how to dance,” Aidan countered.

“Then why do you know how?”

The Irishman didn’t falter, but he did scowl. “Hey, I am trying to teach you something important. You watch your mouth.” Surely Richard didn’t allow this kind of cheek!

Eileen, from her spot on the couch, smirked. Ah, the joys of parenting!

“Come on, Isaac, it’s not that bad. It’s fun! And think about it, girls love a bloke that can dance. What if you’re at a party and a cute bird asks you to dance with her?” Dean added. He'd been relaxing in a chair with his sketchbook, trying to 'capture the movement of the dance'... all right, he was drawing Aidan, but that still meant that he was practising his art. He was discovering how difficult it was to capture a waltz and make it look right.

Isaac stopped in his tracks. “I’ll have to dance with a GIRL? Nobody told me that!”

“Who were you expecting to dance with?” Dean asked.

“I dunno, but not a girl! Girls are icky!”

“What was that?” Mrs. Turner frowned at the child. “I am not ‘icky’.”

"You’re not a girl. You’re a mom.”

“Ah. Glad to know there’s a difference.” Eileen said sarcastically. Isaac was a little too young to pick up on it.

"What about Persephone? Don't you want to impress her when you see her again?" Dean suggested, ignoring Eileen's heavy sigh - she didn't quite approve of the 'god things playacting' they were doing with the child.

Isaac was silent for a full measure. "Persephone would like dancing?" He asked. Dean nodded. "...maybe I should learn..."

Soon after, Graham wandered into the living area, stifling a yawn. “C’mon lads, time to make breakfast.”

Aidan paused mid-step, turning slightly to look at Graham. “You’re making breakfast? I want beans!”

“No, you’re making it. We’re guests, not servants. Dean, you too, there are things you can do while standing on one foot.” Graham ushered them into the kitchen, much to Isaac’s delight and Eileen’s trepidation.

James wandered in sometime between the clang of the pots and pans and the smell of bangers, saying ‘hello’ to Eileen. He spied around the kitchen’s corner, curious about the noise, then beat a hasty retreat. He wanted nothing to do with what was going on in there. “Your son thinks he’s back at Bag End… I hope he doesn’t break all the plates.”

Eileen took a look long enough to see Graham cheerfully slicing through a tomato in midair, using the largest knife he could find, and Aidan tossing the silverware on the table… from about two metres away. And Dean had batter in his hair. What had the Scotsman been thinking?

The adults made small talk, mostly about the next World Cup. Abby entertained herself by crawling over Batman, the patient pup sitting with his tongue hanging out and trying to get the baby to rub his tummy.

It wasn’t long before Aidan and Dean both appeared in the kitchen’s doorway, silly grins plastered on their faces. That was never a good sign…

“Breakfast is served!” The duo declared, bowing at nearly the same time. Blast, they still had trouble with that.

James took Abby and Eileen followed, both of them very cautious. Instead of the disaster of Bilbo’s table, they were greeted with a delicious spread of poached eggs, bangers, scones, beans, toast, tomato, fresh fruit… the works. Eileen could hardly believe that her son had been capable of such a meal! She made sure to give him a kiss on the cheek and a ‘thank you for cooking’. Aidan grinned.

“What’s the plan for today, lads?” James asked before taking a bite of egg. Then, he took a spoonful of egg and tried to feed it to Abby. She wrinkled her nose and tried to bat the evil eggs away.

“Uhm… nothing.” Dean shrugged. “I was going to go over my photos a bit more, maybe flesh out those sketches. You, Aid?”

“I dunno. Might read. Might play FIFA.” Aidan didn’t look too bothered. “Not like we can do very much.”

“Or you can continue cleaning,” Eileen suggested."I'm sure there's still lots to do after your neglect." Aidan withered a bit at that.

“Can I go play in the snow? Please please please? I’ll be good!” Isaac begged. Batman, who was hiding under the table hoping for (and getting) scraps, barked happily. “See, Batman will watch me!”

“I dunno… If Lee finds out about it…” Dean looked thoughtful. Isaac’s face fell. “Ah, go ahead.” Isaac jumped down from his seat and was putting on his coat before anyone could say anything, Batman at his heels. “Hey! Eat your breakfast first!” Dean shouted after him.

Too late, the door slammed shut behind the child.

“He’ll come back when he gets hungry enough. Better have a sandwich ready.” Eileen mused. When Aidan gave her a strange look, she elaborated. “You always came in and said you were starving. I learned to have food ready.”

Aidan rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast.

 

********************************

 

“When are you two gonna leave?” Aidan asked as Graham settled himself on the couch with a book he’d found and a can of fizzy drink. The Irishman didn’t take his eyes off the screen where digital footballers ran amuck, and he stuck out his tongue slightly and waved the controller wildly as he tried to get his players to do what he wanted.

Graham sighed. The snow had built up over the night, and it would take quite a while to dig his vehicle out. “Snow's too high. I’ll be able to leave faster if you stop playing games and help.”

“Busy. Gotta practise for the next time we see Steven.”

The Scotsman rolled his eyes and opened his book. Thank the Gods he was an actor, he probably wouldn’t have been able to ignore the sounds of FIFA if he wasn’t. James had the baby in the spare bedroom, trying to teach her how to say ‘Jimmy’, and Mrs. Turner was… somewhere. He wasn’t sure.

“Aergia would like you,” Graham commented after a while. Perhaps he wasn't as talented at ignoring the game as he thought he was.

“Whozzat?”

“Goddess of laziness. You keep skiving off instead of working.”

Aidan would have rolled his eyes if he didn’t have to keep them on the screen. “You’ve been talking to my mum, haven’t you?”

“No, just an observation. If it’s not acting or dancing, then you try to avoid it.” Graham chuckled before taking a drink.

“Let me guess, Aergia’s a sleep therapist or something.”

Graham thought about that. “No… usually we just set her up with a boat and she stays on the water. She doesn’t care about material things; I don’t think she’s worked in… a hundred years? I haven’t even seen her in a decade. She doesn’t go to any meetings. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure she’s still alive…”

“How do you not know if a God is alive?” The Irishman paused his game to stare at Graham. “I mean, really? How?”

“Mind your cheek,” the Scotsman growled out. He polished off the last of his drink, setting the can next to him on the couch. He went back to his book, absorbed in the tale of Gilgamesh. He was betting that it was Dean’s book he’d borrowed. Aidan sulked and went back to his game.

As he read, a feminine hand reached from behind him for the empty can. Really, Mrs. Turner worried about cleaning far too much. The can was empty, it wasn’t like it was going to leak. “I can do that, you know.” There was no response, just the can being lifted away. “All right, have it your way. Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” was the answer.

Eventually, Graham put down his book in order to watch Aidan play that silly game. It wasn’t as good as a real football match, but given the season, it was the best he was going to get. He cheered when Ireland (of course Aidan would play as Ireland. He was really far too predictable sometimes) made a goal, and jeered when Mexico (that would be the other team) took control of the ball. Maybe there was something to these video games. Dean eventually wandered in, dragging his sketchbook and a number of pastels he kept in a storage box. He didn’t get much work done, though.

After an indeterminable amount of time (the clock said it had been an hour, but Graham was certain that it hadn’t been more than twenty minutes), the front door opened and in came… Eileen Turner?

“Hey, Mum. Don’t walk in front of the-... shite… you did that on purpose.”Aidan complained as his mother slowly walked in front of his tele, just long enough for Mexico to score a goal. He sighed, knowing that further complaints would fall on deaf ears. “How were the shops?”

“You’d think it was Armageddon out there. Bread, potatoes, canned things, all gone. Candles, too. Why the hell, when we get a spot of bad weather, do people act like we’re going to die? Bloody bastards.”

“I suppose we’re lucky we still have electric. I’d have gone insane without it.” Aidan finally set down the controller.

“That’s the thing, everyone said it was out. You seem to be the only one with electricity.” Eileen gave her a son a ‘strange things happen’ look and took her shopping into the kitchen.

“Only one with electric, huh? Graham, what do you know about that?” Aidan raised an eyebrow at the God. "Something like... Ian?"

“Wait, what?” Graham shook his head, taking himself out of the trance he was in. “Aidan… has your mother been gone the whole time?”

“Yeah…”

“Then who took my can?”

For once, Aidan didn’t have a retort. Neither did Dean.

 

***************************

 

Isaac eventually came in, begging for a hot chocolate and a peanut butter sandwich, with Batman tailing behind and hoping for some of that peanut butter. James and Graham decided that they needed to start digging out Graham’s vehicle, and braved the cold and the snow (was it ever going to stop snowing?) to start work. Dean and Aidan would ‘inherit’ two brand-new snow shovels. The lads had started to wonder how to keep Eileen from noticing all these new things around the house. James needed to slow down a bit.

Dean wound up on ‘diaper duty’ while Aidan and Eileen talked to Pat Turner on Aidan’s mobile. Just as he was finishing up, Isaac tugged on his shirt. “Elise says that you need to put that outside.”

“Put what?” Dean glanced at the child.

“The icky diaper.She says it should go in the bin outside. You keep putting it inside and she doesn't like that.”

Dean reminded himself that Isaac was still just a child. “It’s snowing outside, and my knee still hurts. I’m not going all the way out there in the snow to put a diaper in the bin. It can go in the one right here in the room.”

“Elise won’t like that…” Isaac warned. “Isaac, Aidan’s mum is named Eileen, not Elise.”

“I know that. M’not stupid. Elise doesn’t look anything like Mrs. Turner!” Isaac scowled up at the adult.

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes and counted to ten. He dumped the soiled diaper in the bin and picked Abby up, much to her delight. He didn’t have time for this. No wonder Richard had said he needed a holiday! This kid was enough to drive even Gods insane! “Isaac, I really don’t want to get into a spat right now, okay? I’m tired, I’m gonna put my leg up and rest, and maybe watch a cricket match. That’s it for the rest of my day. I haven’t been resting, and it’s making my knee worse.”

Isaac looked over a blank spot nearby and sighed dramatically. “I’m sorry they’re stupid.”

“Okay, that’s it… You, time-out.” Dean pointed at Isaac while shifting Abby in his arms. “March.” He pushed the boy gently out of the room.

“What?! Daddy Richard doesn’t give me time-outs! That’s not fair! I’m calling my daddies and telling them how mean you are!” The child protested, trying to squirm away from Dean.

“Do you give your parents that much cheek?” Dean frowned.

“…. I’m not telling you….”

“Thought not,” Dean frowned. "We're going to put an end to this, you're being downright disrespectful."

“Y’know, I’m a God. You shouldn’t make me angry.” Isaac tried to argue.

Dean didn’t seem phased in the slightest. “You’re eight years old and you’re getting a time-out. Of course; we can always phone Zeus and see what HE thinks about it. Or would you rather have me phone Rhea?” The child looked up at Dean in horror and shook his head. “Didn’t think so.”

They reached Dean and Aidan’s bedroom, with the bed actually made, for once. He guided Isaac to a comfy chair in the corner of the room before settling Abby down on the bed. It took him a moment to find Abigail’s Pegasus and then put some pillows around the infant and on the end of the bed (thank goodness Aidan loved cuddling pillows!) before giving the girl a set of plastic keys and settling himself on the bed, foot elevated.

“How long do I have to sit here?” Isaac grumbled, crossing his arms and pouting.

Dean thought about that for a moment as he ‘attacked’ Abby with the keys. “Eight minutes. One for each year old you are right now.”

“But that’s FOREVER!” The child protested.

“You’re technically thousands of years old and think 8 minutes is forever?”

“...you’re mean.” Isaac sunk back in the chair, swinging his legs.

It wasn’t long before Dean drifted off to the land of Morpheus, despite the cricket game (from New Zealand, of course) playing on the bedroom tele. Abigail wiggled herself into the crook of Dean’s arm, sucking her thumb and clutching her stuffed animal. Isaac wasn’t sure it had been eight minutes… but he certainly wasn’t going to stick around if he didn’t have to. Quietly, he slid out of the chair and snuck out of the room. Freedom!

 

***************************

 

“Damn! That’s cold!” James complained as he closed the door behind Graham. “I swear… did you idiots anger Boreas, or someth… Hello, Eileen. Cold out, isn’t it?”

The woman glared at the Gods, more wrathful than Athena when you’d taken her books away. The two men froze in their spots, not moving to avoid angering her further. She made a ‘shhh’ motion, and then pointed at her lap and went back to what she was doing.

Aidan had drifted off to sleep, looking peaceful and content. His head was on his mother’s lap, and she was serenely toying with his curls as he slept. The tele was off, though the remote sat nearby, and Aidan was curled up on the sofa, trying to fit without his legs dangling off.

As quietly as possible (though Graham wasn’t exactly quiet) the two Gods approached the Irishwoman, making sure they didn’t wake the young Immortal. When they finally reached her, she looked up at them with a sad smile. Quietly, she said “I can remember the first time he walked on his own, his first day of primary school. His first lost tooth, his first prank on his little sister, his first driving lesson, and the day he told me was accepted into that acting school. I was so excited to think he’d be out of the house and on his own. That was me being thick, I think. I found a book of poetry the other day... I have no idea where I got it. There was this one poem in it; I remember… the end of it was…

“The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

But children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep.

I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.”

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before continuing. “And they don’t, do they? Aidan’s all grown up, he has his own home, he has a career, he’s gone to New Zealand… they just leave us behind. They go on and make lives for themselves, and he’ll never be the child that stole crème puffs from the cupboard ever again.” Her voice choked up, and she wiped the tears away a second time.

James and Graham exchanged glances, and James took a seat on one of the chairs as Graham leaned against the wall. The Irishman gave Eileen a warm smile. “He’ll still nick the crème puffs. We can’t keep them safe when he’s around.” She didn’t seem to respond to that, so he continued. “I have children. Lots of experience, and there’s one thing I know for sure: No matter how far away they are, how old they are, they will always remember you, think about you, need you, and still love you, right Graham?” He looked up at his Godly son expectantly.

The Scotsman nodded. “Always. Yeh wouldn't think so, but that's the truth. The first thing a child thinks of when they're in trouble is 'I want my Mum and Dad, even when they're an adult with children of their own.”

The Irishman grinned and continued. “And no matter what, no matter how old they are, they’re still our babies. Can’t see them as anything but. I have one that if you give a bit of clay to the little blighter, he’ll sit there quietly and sculpt for hours. Won’t even notice if the building is on fire. He’s adorable when he does that.”

“How old is he?” Eileen asked.

“Old enough,” Graham muttered. “I think Jimmy’s remembering things wrong. The old geezer needs a nap. I’m going to take a shower and thaw out.” He turned and headed down the hall.

“Thank you for your kind words, but Aidan barely phoned me while he was filming the Hobbit. I’m sure Aidan is so dazzled by this new world he’s in that he’ll leave me behind.” Eileen sighed sadly.

If only she knew… a new world, indeed. “I spent months… a year with your son. He’s got a lot of love in him. And he had a lot going on while filming. Physical training, lessons in lore… lessons in cooking, not to mention when everyone would drag him out into town. We kept the lads fairly busy, to keep them out of trouble. It’s not his fault.” James intentionally left out any details on assassination attempts. That probably would not be a good idea right now. “Just think about it, he talked Dean into coming to Ireland in the middle of winter. You can’t say that he doesn’t want to be close to you.” The actor stood and gave her a genuine smile. “But, given my experience… enjoy every second that you can. The bigger they are, the harder they are to catch.”

Eileen just smiled sadly and went back to watching Aidan sleep. Just a few more minutes…

 

*******************

 

James strode down the hall, giving the mother some time alone with her son. Dean and Abby were safely asleep in the Kiwi’s bedroom, and it looked like the blonde had finally gotten smart enough to actually rest and put his foot up. What did he think he was doing, walking through the house over and over? All he’d been doing was making the sprain worse. Kids.

The God of Crafting and Mortality passed one of the bathrooms, where the water was running. Well… at least Graham wouldn’t steal their shampoo…

he last place he looked was ‘Isaac’s room’, where he expected to find the boy playing with his toy cars or his colouring books. Perhaps he could convince the child to play ‘dinosaur rampage’ with him – he could easily supply the toy dinosaurs.

Instead, the room of empty, devoid of any eight-year-olds that might want to play with dinosaurs, precious stones, or crayons. That was odd. Did Isaac go back outside? No, he would’ve seen the child sneaking out. Isaac couldn’t have gotten past him.

So where…?

James stopped in front of Dean’s studio, with its door tightly shut. Just for the hell of it, he opened the door a crack.

The mess in the kitchen had been nothing compared to THIS.

“HADES! What do you think you’re doing?”

The child turned around and tilted his head to the side, as if he was confused. “I’m colouring. Dean likes it when I colour.”

“Not the walls!” James shouted. “You know better!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem mentioned does exist, and was written by an American poet. It's much longer, talking about how terrible the mother is because her house is a mess... but then, you get to the last lines... I cry every time I read it... even though my little boy is only 3... I just HAD to include it. I've seen it titled "Babies don't keep" and "Song for the Fifth Child", by Ruth Hulburt.


End file.
